Descent Into Madness: The Fifty-Seventh Hunger Games
by LadyCordeliaStuart
Summary: SYOT full but I DO often get dropouts so I have a list of people who were interested but missed out.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey hey hey I'm putting it up! I still won't be starting for a few days because I have some training and I want to catch up on some side stories. The two year skip is for Lyme and Blight BTW. **

**Partial List: (Caveats below)**

**District One male: Grande St. Leger- 18 (Career)  
**

**District One female: Elissa de Angelo- 17 (Career) JAJ**

**District Two male: Atticus Scipio- 17 (Career) Liamml**

**District Two female: ****Donnatella Bronos-Palassaqua- 17 (Career) 66samvr**

**District Three male: Sparky She-Demon  
**

**District Three female: Yttria Noxus- 16 (seeking female allies. Specifically seeking Sundew) LordShiro  
**

**District Four male: Caio Sagres- 18 (on the fence about Career pack) PrinceofCorinth**

**District Four female: Seychelle Devries- 16 (Probably Career)**

**District Five male: Klaus Riviera- 17 (loner) R.J. Lupin  
**

**District Five female: Meenah Turbine- 18 (seeking allies) SparkaLeah**

**District Six male: Enzo Ranger- 16 (seeking allies) ReaderCastellan  
**

**District Six female: Tracelynn**

**District Seven male: Sparky She-Demon**

**District Seven female: Jezzebell Fern- 17 (seeking allies) Tinks  
**

**District Eight male: Linden Anderson- 18 (allying with Visenya) CarlpoppaLOL**

**District Eight female: Othella Fline- 13 (seeking allies) guesttwelve  
**

**District Nine male: Porter Crane- 15 (open to allies) manny numbers**

**District Nine female: Visenya Lloyd- 17 (allying with Linden) CarlpoppaLOL  
**

**District Ten male: Gavin Booth- 18 (seeking allies)  
**

**District Ten female: Paloma Bennett- 15 (seeking allies)  
**

**District Eleven male: Apollo Courfeyrac- 12 (open to allies)aceswims**

**District Eleven female: Wisteria Rose- 18 (Seeking young allies) AmericanPi**

**District Twelve male: Silver**

**District Twelve female: Sundew "Sun" Keope- 15 (open to allies)**

* * *

**Caveats:**

**1\. If you're in the wrong spot or forgotten, do not panic! I just sometimes get the Districts out of order because letters and numbers sometimes jumble for me. I have it all written down and will be checking, or you can just tell me.**

**2\. Sometimes I put regular submitters in a random slot to ensure they get one. If you're in a slot you didn't ask for, that's probably why and you can switch to other open ones whenever.**

**3\. Newcomers: I'm pretty much first come first serve. I get the problems with that but I'm impatient and I don't mind bad Tributes because that's one good Tribute that doesn't have to get Bloodbathed. That said, I literally take anything so don't be shy. And I won't judge them, either. I treat what might be called bad Tributes the same as anyone and try to make them shine. I am the real life Caesar. Or you can send me a joke character. I don't care and I'll ham it up.**

**4\. Sponsor system: whatever the heck I feel like. Generally I let people send one lifesaving item and one smaller item. In practice I often do more than that, operating on rules of cool and funny. If it will make the story cooler or funnier, I'll send it. Little things that don't affect the Games are essentially free. Try to send your Tribute a tissue and I will definitely approve it.**

**5\. Some of the slots just filled in with submitters already have their forms in. I just didn't add them all because I'm lazy. I have them in a file, so you don't have to resend them.**

**6\. Alliances: You can put your preferences in the form and I'll list them. Submitters contact each other as interested and tell me they're allying. I finally figured out to add the submitters to the list so people know who's who. You can be anonymous if you want though and I'll message potential allies on your behalf.**

**7\. I take whatever form you want, but I'll put up a sample next chapter so you have some ideas. You can send forms before I put it up if you want to get them in. Or I also accept reservations and I am very flexible with timelines, so you don't have to rush.**


	2. Form

**I don't have a set form I strictly adhere to. I don't mind people using their own or making one up. There's no long or short limit. I've had three pages long (Looking at you, Vera) and I've had one paragraph (Looking at you, Tillo- both of those are Victors). Generally, I honestly err a bit shorter than most writers because I frankly can't even fit so much information in if you send me three pages, but don't force yourself to go shorter or longer. I work with anything.**

**That aside, here are some suggestions I like to make. Use what you like, take out stuff, add stuff... just some ideas. Asterisks mark categories that aren't as common in forms and I add for some special insight.**

* * *

**Name, age, and District: You can put that in one line so the form has fewer lines and is easier to read. Important note: I don't have a lower age limit for Victors. My youngest so far is 13. I only remember the books saying Finnick was ONE OF the youngest, and either way, all ages ARE eligible. Younger Tributes are just naturally more vulnerable.**

**Appearance: I don't know why I ask for this, it's really never important. The one exception will be I do notice if a Tribute is either really small or really big, because that makes a difference in fights. Small Tributes can still win fights, it just means I'll write the fight differently. I tend to have a "caveat author" approach. What I mean by that is you can make your Tribute however the heck you want and I'll write it. You can give them one purple eye and one blue one, and I won't complain. Reader approval is my biggest factor in victory. If you make a terrible Tribute, no one will like them. If no one likes them, they'll die. So I take what I'm given and the bad ones sort themselves out.**

**Personality: Whatever you want. There's a general trend that Tributes that are at least a little outgoing are more likely to win, just because they naturally have more human interaction and that's what builds connections with the readers. It's also much easier to write the story if I have a few people Tributes, since it's hard to make alliances or set up conversations if EVERYONE is a loner. Loners are fine, I just hope for a mix.**

**Backstory: It's totally fine to have a boring District life. That's what most Panemians have. A Tribute can be interesting and still have a conventional life. Or you can make an astronaut or something. I don't care. There doesn't need to be much backstory, just enough for an intro POV, really.**

**Family and friends: Don't worry about making complicated characters. You only need these if they're important.**

***Reaping Scene: Instead of writing the Reapings, since they're all the same thing, I like to write a scene from before that sums up the Tribute and establishes their character. It can be from any point in their life. Basically it's how you would want to debut this Tribute.**

**Reaction to Reaping or Reason to volunteer: Not really that important tbh since I rarely write conventional Reaping scenes. It's fine if they panic or cry. It's just a normal reaction, and they can still be brave later.  
**

**Token: Really not important, I just like to see the responses.**

**Relationship with mentor: You can pick your mentor from your Tribute's District. This only really matters if you're familiar with my Victors and have one or another you would prefer. They all have different skills, so there's that. You can pick whether they get along or mostly do their own thing or whatever.**

**What they learned in the Capitol: I get a LOT of edible plants. Smart, really. Just a trend I noted.**

**Allying or not: You can put what they're seeking and I'll list it in the first chapter.**

**Private Session and score: I'll take what you send, because like before, unrealistic Tributes get sorted out by the readers. CRASH COURSE IN SCORING: It's not absolute or anything, but I generally consider 3-6 to be the normal range for outliers. Outliers can go higher if they have a useful skill or are just more competent. Careers tend to score 8-10. Outside those ranges is fine, that's just if you want a rough outline. This is based on Rue's 8 being considered good but not shocking for a young outlier.**

**Interview and Parade outfits: If you don't want to make one, that's fine. I'll make one. Fair warning I usually make stupid ones because they're funnier.**

**Interview angle: Just a fun fact from a writer POV- there are some that are harder to write than others. "Funny" and "subtle" are harder to write than, say, "shy" or "makes a lot of puns". Some things are hard to write if you're not naturally that attribute, you know? Like if you asked me to write a genius physicist it would all be rubbish.**

**Strengths: *I like the greatest strength to be specified separately, so I get a sort of essence of the character**

**Weaknesses: *same as above**

***One word that sums up your Tribute: This makes it easier for me to set your Tribute apart and make them their own in a sea of characters. it can be good or bad or neutral. Just one thing that defines your Tribute.**

***Flight or fight response: This helps me write fight scenes.**

**Capitol scene: If you provide a scene you'd like, it means I don't have to come up with one! This leaves me more creativity for other parts of the story. It can be training, or doing something fun in the Games building, or a specific conversation with a mentor, or anything like that.**

**Bloodbath strategy: I won't defy that. Some writers force Tributes into the Bloodbath, but I take what's requested, even if the Bloodbath ends up barely populated. Most people choose for their Tributes to run, which DOES result in small Bloodbaths, but them's the breaks.**

**Games strategy: If I can get a few whose plans aren't to hide and wait, that spices things up. I do get that's a solid strategy, though, so I won't be mad. However, there's also trapping, or stealing, or creeping by night. I had one Tribute who did animal calls to confuse Tributes. Now THAT was creative.**

***How they would win: If you make an epic finale, I don't have to write one!**

***How they would die: Booby prize in case you don't win. I do my best to adhere by these or at least get close. At the very least, you'll get to pick the level of violence. If you request a peaceful death, I won't have them get swallowed by a giant worm. If you ask for a terrible one, I TAKE IT AS A CHALLENGE**

**Predicted placement: It does make a difference. You know your Tribute best and probably have a good idea where they'll place. It's okay if you say Victor or a high placing. I won't spite kill them.**

**Anything else: Literally anything else. Likes, dislikes, pets, favorite smell**

* * *

**IMPORTANT NOTE!**

** foxfox12 has a partial SYOT called Deja Vu. Pls send tributes because I have two in there and I want to get started!**


	3. One Reaping

**I went ahead and got started since I had some time. I don't know when I'll start really going fast.**

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

It seemed funny to me that Dr. Splendor's office was the only place in One that wasn't crazy. It was actually decorated tastefully, instead of a mishmash of garish colors and jewel tones. He had two brown leather chairs, a potted mini lemon tree, a little fountain on a coffee table, and some watercolors on the wall, and that was it. It was soothing and serene, which I suppose is what you expect from a therapist.

I'd heard every joke there was about being a nutcase, and they could shove them. I wasn't crazy. "Crazy" people- the kind they were talking about- didn't go to therapists. When people talked about crazy, they meant the more severe and hard-to-conceal cases, like psychosis or (usually this is what they meant) schizophrenia. Comparing things like that with anxiety and depression was like comparing tuberculosis to a cold. And yet, if you have a bad cold, you go to the doctor. Just because it's only a little problem doesn't mean you shouldn't get it treated. It was the same for me.

"I decided to volunteer today," I told Dr. Splendor. He didn't hold a sheet of paper or look at me all scrutinizingly like everyone pictured therapists. We talked like two normal people who were trying to help someone with a problem.

"What made you decide that?" he asked. He betrayed no surprise or shock. He always said that he was here to help, not judge.

"It was my eighteenth birthday three days ago," I said. "I had a bunch of friends over to my father's house. We were talking about books and philosophy and stuff. Elissa was there, too, but you know…" Elissa didn't fit in with the rest of my friends. They weren't _mean, _they just didn't understand her.

"When I was cleaning up after the party, my dad came in. He kept talking about how proud he was and how I _really _have nothing to complain about now and how no one's going to bully me now that I finally toughened up. I remember I just wanted to smash the plate and scream at him. I wanted to tell him I was tough because he and Mom split up and won't even admit it, and now I have to move from house to house like a hobo and the two people who were my example for how permanent love is threw it away and if they promised they'd love each other forever and didn't, how can I believe them when they say they'll love _me _forever?"

Dr. Splendor waited patiently as I went on, getting it all out in one sitting.

"I feel bad for what I thought about him, but that's how I felt. And I decided right then that I was tired of being what he wanted and what everyone wanted, and I just wanted to do something no one expected. I wanted to be my own person and make my own decision, so I made the biggest decision I could. I'm volunteering for the Hunger Games," I finished.

"That's a big decision," Dr. Splendor said. "Do you still want to volunteer?"

"I do," I said. "It's scary, but I feel free."

"I hope it works for you," Dr. Splendor said. He was a professional, but he really cared about me. "I'll make some calls and see if you can be permitted to retain your prescription. If you can't, I suggest we start tapering it off now. Your condition isn't severe enough that stopping will cause trouble, but the side effects of sudden cessation are far more dangerous."

I took an antidepressant once a day. It was a small dose, and it didn't make a huge change. It just added a little color to the day and helped keep the anxiety down. It was like salt in soup. You could eat soup without salt, but it was hardly worth eating.

I smiled when he said it. Dr. Splendor's first thought was for my wellbeing, not his expectations of me. I knew he disapproved of the Games, being a doctor and all, and just a good person, to be honest. The therapy and the medication were really helpful, but what I appreciated most was having people who cared.

* * *

Elissa de Angelo- District One female

Religion wasn't encouraged in Panem. It was, in fact, highly _discouraged- _usually under penalty of death. Of course there would always be those who refused to be broken. It was one of the most uplifting truths I'd ever encountered that the more a nation hated religion, the more faithfully the devout preserved it.

My own religion, Sofreh, had some distinct advantages that helped it slip through the cracks. Probably most importantly, it was non-proselytizing. Sofreh didn't teach a separation in the afterlife. We thought there was a more nebulous permanence in that souls persisted and were perpetually transformed after their vessels were destroyed, and that just about anything could be a vessel- a sort of pantheism, I suppose. So there was no need to bring other people in, since everyone was included by default. Another helpful part was that Sofreh had very few specific rules and the rituals, while complicated, didn't require many materials or much to-do. It was very easy to practice without anyone knowing.

The rituals were my favorite part. They were my anchor to something solid and timeless. I needed that, since my mind was always wandering. I couldn't keep a thought in my head for ten seconds before something else came along and distracted me. I knew something about just about every weapon in the Academy and I knew a lot about a few of them, but I learned it all in five minute increments.

Raspi Russe took a flower from the bowl in the center of the sheet we were sitting on. She passed it over but not through the flame in a bowl of oil and laid it on my plate. We were ideally supposed to use a special ceremonial vessel, but it would have attracted suspicion and we didn't have one, so we used the prettiest bowl we could find.

When everyone had a flower, we started the prayers. Each of the fourteen of us (there aren't many Sofrehites in One, and I wasn't sure there were any at all in the rest of Panem) sitting on the sheet lifted our flowers in one hand and one finger of the other hand. You could make as many or as few prayers as you wanted, raising another finger for each one and starting again if you had more than five. Or you could think about a past Sofrehite hero or event. That was a good rule for me, since I always thought about at least half a dozen things in the roughly two-minute prayer time.

_Hey, Asuir, _I started, addressing the ultimate deity. _I know we transform and don't really die and all that, but please keep Grande safe in the Arena if you don't mind. And if I get picked too, please help me do a good job and do honor to my potential. _I thought for a minute about what else to ask. _And please help me be patient when Zircon annoys me._

Asuir wasn't a petty sort of god. She didn't mind if prayers were short. With that taken care of, I started thinking of more particular gods. Technically they were all the same god, since each one, called an Ahura, was a different piece of Asuir, like the faces of a diamond, but some fit better or worse with different people.

_Hey, Huyk, _I switched to my favorite Ahura. Truth has infinite faces, and Asuir fulfilled all of those by her (being a god, Asuir was male _and _female. She was female for female followers and male for male ones) Ahuras, or facets. Her different manifestations fulfilled different truths. Huyk was my favorite because she was the Ahura of action, conflict, and violence. That sounded bloodthirsty, but I identified with how she moved quickly, flitting from thought to thought. And the violence part was better in context. If souls are permanent and death is just a transition, violence wasn't really _wrong _entirely. Causing pain was wrong and it wasn't a good idea to run around wantonly killing people, but killing could be a good thing if done right. If someone was stuck in a faulty body, for example, or they weren't living up to their potential and needed a kick in the pants. That was how I justified being in the Academy.

_Hey, Huyk. I hope you're doing well today. How do you deal with all the thoughts cramming into your head at once? Sometimes I wish I could think of one thing and stick to it. Do you feel like that? And another thing..._

* * *

**Grande: No description**

**Elissa: ****five feet and six inches, shoulder-length blonde hair in a messy bun. Bright green eyes and tan caucasian skin, and likes to wear multiple bracelets on her wrist along with colourful clothing.**

**Elissa's form said she belonged to a fictional religion, as in I get to make it up. I was gonna go generic but then decided to go all-in. I've concocted a religion inspired by Zoroastrianism, Satanism, and some random stuff I threw in to make it different enough that it wasn't stepping on any toes. I went kind of in-depth and made some lore, which I think I'll put up next just for giggles.**


	4. Bonus Chapter

**Just for fun, the fake religion I made up for Elissa. More updates as I add more lore.**

* * *

Sofreh

The Four Tenets:

1\. Live to your potential

2\. Help others to their potential

3\. Live to your truths

4\. Help others to their truths

Sofreh began circa 300 B.C. in present-day Iran when Youtab Satrapi fled an unwanted marriage and wandered in the desert, where she had a vision of an incomprehensible being with the visage of a diamond. This being handed down the Four Tenets and told Youtab to determine the rest for herself. Youtab lingered in the wilderness, telling any who asked of her vision. Some began to follow her, and Sofreh was born.

With its foundational postulate that truth is many-natured, Sofreh was an open-ended religion that readily absorbed any input from disparate followers. Many of its oldest ceremonies and rituals are passed down from Youtab's former Zoroastrian faith, though they have become different over the millennia. The other religions most influential on Sofreh, due to their similarly fluid natures, are Daoism and Satanism. Because they so readily add in and adapt to the dominant religion of the area, and because it is so modestly and invisibly practiced, Sofrehites have endured little persecution over the years.

The holy book of Sofreh is called The Book of Truths. It contains multitudes of separate accounts, stories, lessons, parables, and proverbs collected over millennia by different followers. Some are attributed to deities and others are considered general wise sayings. Any writing can be included, and no one Book of Truths is assumed to have every entry ever recorded. Followers are expected to pick the writings that apply to their own lives and outlooks. The writings are disparate and many contradict each other, in keeping with the multifurcated view of truth.

Deities:

Sofreh recognizes one deity, Asuir ("AA-shur"). Asuir is the embodiment of truth- the source of all that was and is. Asuir is directly invested in the lives of its creations and listens to prayers, though it prefers to spur followers in the right direction rather than divinely intervene. No sacrifices or deeds are necessary in particular, but Asuir appreciates any gestures and values them based on intent.

Asuir manifests as infinite facets, like the different faces humans show in different situations. These manifestations are called Ahuras. No historian knows how many Ahuras there are, but there are some that are more well-known.

List of prominent Ahuras:

Shamhat- the Ahura of benevolence and deference. Often represented by rain and inverted tulips. The truth of Shamhat is _the uplifting of others is the uplifting of the self._

Chernoduk- the Ahura of pleasure. Often represented by the sun. Typified by a life of hedonism and the encouragement of impulses. The truth of Chernoduk is _do as you will._

Huyk- the Ahura of action, conflict, and violence. Huyk is a dynamic Ahura who emphasizes initiative and the active will to better oneself. The truth of Huyk is _I will accomplish what I first begin._

Xian- the Ahura of serenity and non-action. Often represented by curving lines. Xian is practiced by all Sofrehites in their attitude toward nonbelievers. Xian holds that truth and goodness are the default of the universe and all things tend toward it. The truth of Xian is _There are many rivers, but all flow to the same sea._

Malchaim- the Ahura of antagonism. Set apart from most Ahuras by the tendency to portray it as a particular being: a gaping, fire-filled mouth surrounded by sword-wielding arms. Malchaim denies the infinity of truth and exhorts followers to destroy those who do not acknowledge Malchaim's sole reign. Malchaim is a controversial Ahura, with many Sofrehites struggling to reconcile its exclusion with Asuir's nature. This has resulted in many disagreements throughout the years, culminating with a schism in 37 B.C. that resulted in nearly a quarter of the religion splitting off and forbidding inclusion of Malchaim in their Books of Truth. The truth of Malchaim is _I consume those whom I am able._

Isst'a- The Ahura of love and cohesion. Isst'a values all relationships and the bond between people who value each other and work for each other's benefit, from parents and siblings to lovers. Anything that naturally occurs in a pair is considered an emblem of Isst'a, though the Ahura recognizes relationships with more members as well. The truth of Isst'a is _I am part, we are whole._

Fadd-Boodaa- The Ahura of joy. Fadd-Boodaa likes to visit Earth in human form, appearing as a smiling rotund man or woman with a bright yellow robe. The symbol of Fadd-Boodaa is a curved line with two dots. Any offering given to Fadd-Boodaa will be gratefully eaten, but when Fadd-Boodaa eats, it is the hungriest person on Earth at that moment who is satisfied. Depending on the Sofrehite, Fadd-Boodaa can be treated in varying degrees either as a pure Ahura or as a sort of mythical figure. Fadd-Boodaa encourages followers to always see the bright side and to preserve a joyful spirit that no hardship can break. The truth of Fadd-Boodaa is _Joy! Joy! Joy unending!__._

Devotion to Ahuras is not exclusive. Sofrehites consider themselves followers of all Ahuras in differing proportions. Devotion ebbs and flows with transitions in the follower's life and philosophy.

* * *

**As you probably picked up, there's a ton of references to various religions in here. Have fun looking for them.**


	5. Four Reaping

**Seychelles' is kind of weird. It was the requested scene so I rolled with it.**

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

The sun was setting, casting orange light through the window into the academy dojo. Classes were long over, but few of us ever left on time. It was of course a badge of honor to say that you were the most dedicated and stayed the latest. For most people, anyway. I was never caught up in such useless posturing. I knew what I needed to train, and I knew what I had it mastered. Life was too short, especially for a Career, to waste all day and all night in the Academy. Days were for training, and nights were for loving.

I was about to leave when Obelix started it. I was setting my spear on the wall mount when he spoke.

"Learned all you need to know, have you?" he taunted. "Tired of training to be worth the instructors' time and off to go get your rocks off?"

I tightened my grip on the spear, still hovering over the hooks set into the wall.

"I am sorry you take out on me your lack of endowments… and endowments," I said. I turned my head just enough to see Obelix's complexion darken.

"Like a father who loves me?" he spat. My fist clenched around the spear until my nails bent back in the flesh of my palm.

"Then I was mistaken, if we are enjoying the same pastime at night," I said.

In the instants before Obelix reached me, I welcomed the rush of potent, conflicting emotions a fight always brought. The high of deadly conflict and holding my life in my own hands with nothing but my strength. The wave of satisfied hate when I inevitably pictured my opponent as my father. The swell of gratification from flexing my skills and demonstrating my prowess. The very reason I wanted to risk death was how vibrantly alive it made me feel.

I waited until the last second to dodge Obelix. Unable to stop in time, he ran into the wall shoulder-first, huffing as he pushed himself off. He swung his sword at me. I danced out of his reach, not bothering to strike back. Obelix was twice my size, overloaded with muscle and bulk. I was a sparrow taunting an, effortlessly and without even a thought.

Again and again Obelix charged, and each time I evaded, smirking and flashily stepping aside. The handful of other students had of course gathered around and were cheering wildly. Most of them, I was happy to notice, for me.

"I think we learned a lot today, don't you?" I asked as I dodged. I'd noticed what Obelix was training in. Everyone noticed everyone else when we were all competing. He thought he was quick-footed and was working on a surprise feint. I relished the movement as he set himself up for it, letting him think he was driving me back and snaring me in his trap.

"Maybe we learned how very little we know," I said, as he launched into the attack. He drew his arm back at an angle that suggested a strike at my chest, then instead came for my throat. I ducked under it, sweeping his leg with my spear. I smiled when his legs flew up comically and he landed hard on his back. I sidled next to him and rested the tip of my blunt training spear on his forehead, leaning on it.

"Now if you don't mind, I'll be going. After winning a fight, there's nothing I like better than a good lay."

* * *

Seychelle Devries- District Four female

The fire flickered between us, sending light out playing across the sand. I took a bite of the sausage I'd roasted, listening to Marlin ask the question.

"Truth or dare?" he asked Monami.

"Truth," she said.

"Who's the cutest guy you've ever seen in real life?" he asked.

She sighed. "This random guy I saw in the grocery store. I should have said something. Just… almost six feet of pure beefcake, and my dumb ass was too shy." she laid her cheek in her hand.

"Your turn," Nio said, looking at me. I swallowed my bite of sausage.

"Dare," I said.

"I dare you to swim out until you get to the rock," he said, pointing out at the jagged rock that poked out of the water almost at the horizon line.

"It's the middle of the night!" I said.

"What, water is different at night?" Nio asked.

"Sharks are out at night," I said.

"No one's gotten eaten by a shark in five years," Nio said. "Scared?"

"Oh, fine. If I get eaten, _you _have to tell my grandparents," I said. I slid off the towel draped over my shoulders and ran into the surf before he could add that I had to skinnydip it.

It wasn't hard to reach the rock. It was a long way out, but it was just water. I could swim for miles without getting tired. I grabbed onto two cracks in the rock, carefully pulling myself up. Even with caution, the hard, slippery stone still scraped my legs. Wet stones weren't as romantic as in the stories.

The visible part of the rock got up to about five feet above the water. It dropped off in the middle, leaving a shelf on the other side. I pulled myself over to sit on it, then fell into the ocean in shock when I saw a woman sitting there.

"Hello," the woman said. She was sitting on the edge of the rock, her legs invisible under the dark water.

"I… what… what the heck?" I asked, scrabbling at the edge of the rock and clinging to it as I looked up at her.

"Yes, I'm real," the woman said. In the dim light, I couldn't make out much about her. She had curly blonde hair and light eyes, but that was it. "You shouldn't volunteer."

_This isn't real. I don't care if you say it's real. _There was no way I was talking to a bona fide _mermaid. _But even though it was crazy and by far the _smallest _thing wrong with this, I felt obligated to defend myself.

"I have to volunteer," I said. "I'm… the Moon Knight. It's a _prophecy." _Okay, I made the last part up. The other kids at the Academy sometimes called me the Moon Knight because I used a crescent-shaped sword, but that was just my friends being extra. But there was no way the mermaid would know that.

"Dying is painful. It should be feared," the mermaid said.

"I'm not afraid of death," I said, pulling myself the rest of the way onto the rock.

"You will be," the mermaid said. In a flash, she slid into the water, disappearing underneath the surface. I sat alone on the rock, waiting in vain for her to resurface.

_What was in that sausage?_

* * *

**I have really high hopes for these two! About time we get another Career Victor!**

**Caio: Literally Trystane from Game of Thrones. Which I've never watched so I learned something new today watching his scenes for inspiration.**

**Seychelle: Vietnamese descent. Olive skin, dark eyes, Sandy blonde, slightly lavender-toned hair because she got her hands on some Capitol hair dye. Her hair is shoulder length, and her bangs are tied up in a little scrunchie on top of her head. Petite girl, yet somewhat tall posture. Slender but toned body.**


	6. Two Reaping

**Caio is Four oops. He was sent as a Two but got shuffled.**

* * *

Atticus Scipio- District Two male

They picked Orpheus. They really picked Orpheus over me. Overpheus, with his worthless "trapping" and "strategy" skills. Careers don't set up a snare and wait ike frightened cowards for a Tribute to blunder in and then kill them while they're helplessly tangled. We take what we want and we kill people to their faces. The committee said they were looking for something different and a more "measured" approach. Spineless, every one of them. I could kill half a dozen Tributes before Orpheus had one of his wimpy "traps" set up.

I was seething as we set up for a grappling session. The results had been announced last week, and everyone was either fawning over Orpheus or glaring at him jealously. I, the second-place volunteer, was forgotten entirely. No one had ever really been fond of me at the Academy. They were either intimidated by me or vainly trying to intimidate me.

"Let's see what you got, volunteer," I said, squaring off to Orpheus.

"You know we're not allowed to," he said. Runner-ups weren't allowed to fight the chosen volunteer, for obvious reasons.

"Scared?" I asked. I'd picked my moment carefully. After the volunteers were announced, supervision was down. The instructors didn't need to waste time training non-volunteers, so a lot of them spent most of the day preparing strategies and stuff for the Games. The only one with us now was Domitian, the student-teacher in his first year. He'd lost his own chance to volunteer to a stress fracture, and he didn't mind at all if someone else had to share his misery.

"Orpheus is yellow," Catullus called from the ring of already circling students. Others joined in, spoiling for a fight. The Career pack wasn't named in vain. Careers were a pack of wolves, always jockeying for position and more than ready to cut someone else to step on top of them. If either of us got hurt, that meant a bigger chance for someone else.

Orpheus scanned the crowd, his big strategic brain running numbers. The volunteer families were the richest in Two. Even when their child lost out, they still felt the District duty to donate sponsor funds. There were eyes everywhere. If people thought he wasn't able or willing to defend his position, that would be it for him.

Orpheus launched into attack, trying to get the first move. I met him in the middle, and we scrambled for position. In all fairness, he knew more about fighting than I did. I preferred to use a spear and not let my enemy get that close. But I wasn't trying to win.

After a few exchanged blows, I shoved him back, tangling our feet together so we both fell. I wound my elbow around his arm and twisted as we fell, so we landed on our sides. His arm was twisted awkwardly, and his body weight came down on it where it lay across my arm, like a branch bent over a knee.

I smiled when I heard the noise and felt the wet release of bone. Hurting people didn't give me any particular evil pleasure, but getting what I wanted did.

Orpheus kicked away from me and stood, holding his arm. "He did that on purpose!" he screamed.

"Fell over?" I asked, still smiling. Everyone in the room knew he was right, from the student teacher checking Orpheus' arm to Donnatella looking at her new District partner with barely hidden distaste. My father knew, too. But he was on the committee, and he'd get me out of it, like he always had before. It didn't even matter if I'd done it now. Orpheus couldn't go, and I was the next best bet. Simple as that.

* * *

Donnatella Bronos-Palassaqua- District Two female

The only people I could really be myself with were my best friend Phoebe and my daughter Kallista. I wanted to cry as I looked at them, all of us so happy and together. Careers said they didn't have silly emotions like that, but who did we think we were fooling? The only reason we volunteered was for emotion. Either we liked killing or we cared so much about the opinions of others that we pretended to. I was more in the first camp than the second, though I wouldn't say I really _liked _killing. I liked training and fighting to be my best. The Hunger Games was the purest, highest-stakes way to do that, but if it wasn't for the Games, I would have gone my life without killing anyone and not felt robbed.

"I guess I have something pretty important to tell you," I said to Phoebe. Kallista didn't look up from where she was putting together magnetic blocks.

Phoebe stiffened and didn't move her eyes from where she'd been looking at Kallista. "I guess I know what it is," she said.

"Yeah," I said. Phoebe had always been supportive of me, and we'd both suspected this would happen. I knew she didn't disapprove or hold it against me. She was just scared, like any best friend would be.

"I know you'll do well," she said. I felt the slightest pain that she hadn't said '_I know you'll _win', but that was reality. All of us, except those few that pass arrogance into insanity, know that.

Phoebe was the first one I'd told. Not my parents, who forced their childhood failures onto me and wanted me to live their dreams. We hadn't been the same since Kallista was born. You don't get over your mother throwing you and your daughter out and calling you the shame of the family (but still wanting you to volunteer). I hadn't told Kallista's father, either. It would have been hard to, since I hadn't seen him in three years. He wasn't ready to be a father, and never gave a thought to if _I _was ready, either. But that was a long time ago, and for all I resented him, I had to make a few allowances. Few of us were very mature or self-aware at fourteen.

"Are you still up for it?" I asked. We'd danced around the subject before. There was no place in the world better for Kallista to stay than with my best friend.

"Of course," she said. "I'll watch Kallista as long as we need."

Those five words echoed long after the room was silent. Either for a few weeks, or forever. No in between. I felt the same guilt I'd wrestled with for months, wondering if I should wait another year. Those precious memories of her mother would mean everything to Kallista. But that was it. If I knew she had that little bit extra, I might lose just enough concentration and determination. It was funny how happy I was that I'd had her at fourteen. At three years old, Kallista was just old enough to remember me, but young enough not to know how scared she should be.

* * *

**Atticus: 5'11, Muscular. Short cropped brown hair, Light brown eyes, Scar on cheek. White skin**

**Donnatella: 5 feet and 10 inches. She's mixed race, with light brown skin, black eyes, and her black hair is in a pixie cut.**

**I am evilly pleased that Atticus is unlikeable, since Atticus is such a trendy name right now with everyone all claiming they LOOOOOOVE To Kill a Mockingbird and thinking they're so unique listing the book literally everyone in America has read and most love. Nothing against To Kill a Mockingbird- it's a great book and I honestly think it's deeper than I understand and I should read it again- but get some individuality, people. Love To Kill a Mockingbird because it's great, but Atticus is gonna have four other kids in kindergarten with the same name. And that's my unasked for opinion on the name Atticus. Another fun fact: my experience of To Kill a Mockingbird is also colored because instead of identifying with Atticus like most people say they did, I identified with Boo XD**


	7. Five Reaping

Klaus Riviera- District Five male

"If you stay here, you're going to die," I told my mother, and the flames danced in her eyes as she stared back at me. Never had she looked more like the demon she worshiped.

"This is my punishment," she said, her voice depthless and echoing with the pain and guilt that brought her here.

Heat seared my face and simmered inside me as I lost it. "There _is _no punishment!" I screamed. "There is no fate, or Deimos, or spirit world! There's just _your _choices and _your _mistakes! There's no Nyra either, because _you _got her killed!" I bent over, wracked with coughs from the smoke we were both breathing. The tears on my cheeks felt cool compared to the air.

"You'll see," my mother said. It came out a hiss, the moisture in her mouth sizzling when it hit the air. "You'll see when we get there."

"No, I won't. Because I'm not going," I said. I'd only stayed this long for the one-in-a-million chance that she might respond to one last plea to reason. But my mother was lost, probably long before the botched experiment that killed my sister. She was an adult, and she made her decision. I wasn't obligated to save her from herself, and I wasn't obligated to die with her.

Time was almost up when I walked out of the house. On my way to the door, the fire around me was so bright that it might have been high noon. My lungs were drawn tight with the empty, scorched air. Heat surpassed a background sensation and became an omnipresent covering over me, tearing at my skin and trying to wither it away.

I watched my house burn down, my clothes reeking of smoke and embers smoldering in my hair, stabbing my scalp with intermittent pain. I never heard a sound from my mother. The others in her cult would have said she was brave, or that Deimos had taken her before the flames in reward for her devotion. None of that was true. It was just cold equations. The smoke had killed her before the flames ate her body. That was the only reason.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

The man walking by my stall made eye contact. That was all I needed.

"Hey, sir! Nice day, isn't it? You looking for anything in particular?" I asked. I wouldn't call myself smart, or even _that _street-smart, but some things were just common sense. A man wearing a watch and shiny shoes, for example, probably had money to buy a knicknack.

"Not really. Just shopping," he said.

"Maybe something for the lady?" I asked, having noticed his ring.

He looked down at the ring and smiled.

"She's a lucky lady," I said. "And I bet she's happy just with you, but sometimes it's nice to show that, isn't it? And it doesn't even have to be expensive. Sometimes little things are the best." I slipped my hand into a loop of string necklace that held a lacquered acorn.

"Take something like this. It's just a little acorn, right? _Wrong. _In Seven, acorns are a symbol of the permanence of love. It starts with just a little seed. You see someone walking by and notice how pretty she is. But as time goes by and you see each other more, it grows. Then it's too strong to stop, and the more you put into it, the bigger it gets, until it's an entire tree, all from a little acorn."

"It really means all that?" the man asked, looking closer at the acorn necklace like it was gold.

"Not only that. This one was blessed by a shaman in Seven," I said. "He said anyone who wears it will see themselves the way the one they love sees them."

"She always says her stomach sticks out," the man said wonderingly. "I keep telling her she's beautiful."

"Sometimes people need a lot of reminding," I said. The man put out his hand, and I set the necklace into it.

"Tell you what. Just because she sounds like she really needs it, I'll give you a deal. And I know you don't believe it's really a deal and we both know you're right, but it's more fun to pretend," I said, quoting a price that was three times what I paid for the necklace but still the kind of money people threw away on a cup of coffee.

A minute later, the man had a necklace and I had enough money for a cup of coffee. I could probably be rich if I really did my best and saved my money, but… more money, more problems. I had a ratty apartment, instant noodles, and coffee. Perfect is the enemy of good enough.

* * *

**Klaus: Klaus has pale skin and dark green eyes. His hair is copper colored and has curls. He is not muscular, but is rather tall.**

**Meenah: **

**Meenah's a mix of Italian and Japanese, with short, feathery black hair and lukewarm sort of muddy hazel brown eyes. Physically, she's extremely boring looking in every respect, so she glitzes herself up in every way possibly- suits, ties, big gold earrings fastened from dyed tin she found in a gutter somewhere, etc. Usually chills in a tuxedo she spent a hell of a lot of time making that looks like s*** if you examine it up close but no one does, and said dyed tin gold earrings.**

**Meenah had an anime person (I think?) listed as inspiration, but I, an intellectual, immediately thought of the classic Twilight Zone episode "One for the Angels"**

**Klaus' in particular turned out short. It was such a distilled scene I didn't want to ruin it by adding more, so I'll keep it in mind for their next POVs.**


	8. Ten Reaping

**Heyyy I'm back! I was back home surprising my family for labor day! I've always wanted to do that XD We had a ton of fun. **

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

"Heyyyyyy, batter! HeeEEEEeEey, batter! Maybe wanna hit it this time? Try something different maybe?"

I'm not a _jerk. _This is just baseball. There's a time for messing around and tossing a few zingers, and when better than when your opponent is trying so hard to concentrate and it's so much fun to hurl increasingly bizarre taunts at him? It's all part of the fun. Who would play baseball if they didn't get to kick dirt and jeer the batter?

We didn't exactly have enough people for full teams, so no one had a set spot. After a few hitters, I rotated to the outfield. Most of the people out there were on my team, but a few were from our mortal enemies. "Team" was a fast and loose term with us. We kept score each inning and both teams always claimed to win, but it was hard to tell when someone who was batting one minute was in the outfield the next.

There was a mighty crack as someone hit the old, taped-together baseball just right. It arced into the air, heading for the sticks we'd laid out to measure the boundaries of a home run. I sprinted underneath it, not noticing a lengthening shadow until too late.

I didn't catch the ball. Neither did the boy I'd collided with. We hit the ground flat, me landing mostly on top of him.

"I promise I'm usually not this forward," I said as we got up. The ball was already out of bounds, so there was no rush. As the other boy stood, I noticed it might not need to be entirely a joke. There were worse-looking people I could have crashed into. He smiled as he dusted himself off.

"Hey. I'm Gavin," I said. We'd seen each other in passing, but we'd never actually swapped names.

"I'm Tyler," he said. "Guess you're better at catching than… well, catching. Horizontal catching than vertical catching? You know what I mean."

That was the start of a long friendship. I had lots of friends- I was just generally a friendly sort of guy, and people seemed to think I was witty- but Tyler was my best friend. There was a lot wrong in Panem, and a lot of problems I'd dealt with or had never even thought about but would experience eventually, but some things were simpler. For example, I was able to fix the problem that led to me meeting Tyler in the first place, good outcome notwithstanding. From then on, when I noticed a human-shaped shadow coming at me and getting bigger, I dodged.

* * *

Paloma Bennett- District Ten female

Chimera was getting older. My parents remembered when he first took over as Ten's mentor. They said he used to be super awkward and adorably eager. My mother also said his butt looked better then. My father didn't have an opinion on that.

His hand was still steady when he dipped it into the bowl. He didn't seem as excited as most mentors to pick a kid to kill, but he still did it. He took out a slip of paper. It was hard to care about anything when all your life, all your choices, your effort, your grades, your hopes, all came down to a piece of paper. I got good grades in school, but for what? I still wouldn't get a good job, or go to college, or ever get out of here. That wasn't anything to cry over. It was just life. I got good grades because school was easy, not because I earned them.

"Paloma Bennett!"

I thought I was going to throw up. I thought that was just an expression, but it was really true. My stomach got all tight, and my throat felt like it was turning inside-out. I felt like I was hollow inside and full of bad air, the kind that kills you when you breathe it. My mind was hollow, too. All that was in there was disbelief, craven fear, and the knowledge that it could never be taken back. And then I noticed the silence.

There were no screams, no wailing or tears from the people around me. None of the girls standing beside me were even looking at me. And it wasn't because they didn't like me. _They didnt know who I was. _Not a single soul in the crowd knew who 'Paloma Bennett' even was. No one remembered the face of the quiet kid who never spoke up in class, or the name of the girl working alongside them in the pasture. There would be half the mourning in Ten this year, since my name was never remembered to be forgotten.

I was standing on the stage, looking out past Chimera's hand. _Did they drag me here? _I didn't remember that, but I also didn't remember walking.

"Do we have any volunteers?" I heard Chimera say.

"I volunteer!"

_Verlynne. _My sister, the only one in the crowd who knew my name. She'd been with the other eighteen-year-olds, too far away for me to hear any sign of her. And now she was pushing her way to the stage, dead-set on saving her little sister. My sister Verylnne, who loved me more than her own life.

"No!" I yelled, surprising myself with how quick it came. "She can't volunteer!"

Chimera looked at the side of the stage, searching for a teleprompter or any sign of what the rules were. I racked my mind for anything I could use.

"She's not a girl!" I blurted. Chimera did a wild double-take. Peacekeepers intercepted Verylnne as she got to the stage, holding her back as she clawed and protested.

"Check her birth certificate!" I yelled, my chest heaving. I listened to Verlynne's desperate pleadings and protests as they slowly dragged her away. With each second, I was aware of how simple it would be to tell the truth, to take the miracle deliverance from my death sentence. I heard my sister, my big sister who had protected me from birth, begging me to let her do this, and I felt the seconds draw out as I refused my only hope.

It was a lie, of course. My sister's birth certificate said _Verlynne Bennett, female._ But it would take time to dig up the papers, and by the time they were sorted, it would be far too late to volunteer. My sister had done the bravest thing anyone could do, and I would never forget it, but I couldn't let her. In the most important moment of my life, the moment that would almost certainly _end _my life, I finally found my voice.

* * *

**The requested scene was Paloma refusing the volunteer. Since Catching Fire had Haymitch unable to refuse Peeta's volunteering, I had to get creative. This isn't a comment on how Panem handles transgenderism, since I haven't speculated much on that since it hasn't come up. The birth certificate was just a way I could make it take long enough for Paloma to remain the tribute.  
**

**Gavin: 5'10" tall, well-built but not overlarge. His curly brown hair is kept long along the top and back of his head, the sides almost entirely shaved down. He's considered attractive by the young women of the District.**

**Paloma: Long dark hair, grey eyes, tan-ish skin. Average height and build. Has a scar on her cheek from being kicked in the face by a horse at twelve years old. Look alike is Adelaide Kane**


	9. Eleven Reaping

Apollo Courfeyrac- District Eleven male

It was the day before the Reaping. Aside from the obvious, that was always a big deal in my gang. It was usually someone or other's last, since they were all older than me. That person was the celebrity of the day, enduring jokes and roughhousing from the rest of us jealous dummies. This time _I _was the star, but no one was happy. I was the star because it was my _first _Reaping.

"They never pick little kids," Harvest said, and he ruffled my hair. "It'll be just another normal day for you, squirt. Except standing in a crowd for an hour. I'm glad that's over for me."

"If they pick you, I'll volunteer," Rufus said.

"Yeah," I said, and I smiled as he hugged me. We all knew Rufus was full of it. He _was _the biggest and strongest of us and he'd never lost a fight that I'd seen, but he still thought he was the biggest baddest guy in all of Panem, and that just wasn't true. But he believed it, and he was a good guy, and we liked him, so we pretended. No one really volunteers for their friends, but it didn't matter. I wouldn't get Reaped.

"What do you think happens to all the kids who die?"

Of course it was Silas who asked. He was the "thinker" of us. Most of us would probably burn out in a gutter somewhere, but Silas would be the one who made it. He'd invent something or write a book so deep even the Capitol would like it.

"Heaven, I guess. That's where good people go," Harvest said.

"What if they're bad? Like the Careers?" Silas asked.

"None of them go anywhere," Rufus said. "You just die."

_What's it like to die? _Everyone dies. We all think we won't, and I still thought I wouldn't even though I knew everyone thought that. That was something to think about when you were old, not when you weren't even a teenager yet. I was interested in throwing rocks, and playing with my friends, and maybe girls but not really yet. _Important _things.

"Whatever," I said, and kicked a can at the wall of the alley we were huddled in. "Let's go see if the bakery took out their garbage yet. This is dumb." I ran off down the street, listening until the others started following. We weren't going to find any answers the rest of humankind hadn't turned up, and that kind of talk was boring. There was stuff to do in the world. I couldn't concentrate on a useless discussion when there were so many things to distract me, like stickball games or thrown-out bread.

* * *

Wisteria Rose- District Eleven female

It was funny that someone who loved children so much only got pregnant herself because of an accident. I just really liked a little "adult entertainment", you know? Once you can't concentrate enough to count anymore, four shots… might actually be seven shots. I didn't do that every day, or even every month. I wasn't an alcoholic, but it only takes one time. I _really _wasn't an alcoholic now, since I hadn't drunk in more than eight months.

"Mom really thinks I should marry Wicker," I said to my brother's grave. "He's a really nice guy. Of all the fathers I could have picked, he's not bad at all. I just don't want to marry him. I like seeing him and being with him- obviously, ha ha- but not every day. Not waking up next to him _every day _and eating every meal with him and never being able to go where I want whenever I want. He's a good guy, but he's not for me." It was funny how resistant I was, since I was a total shrinking violet and had never so much as flirted with anyone else. I just didn't want to marry him, and that was that. He'd never asked me, either. He was committed to our child and intended to give support, and I thought he would agree if I said I wanted an "official" family, but he hadn't made the first move. I guess we both knew that marriages were built on love, not sex.

Trillium didn't respond. I visited my brother not for any logical reason, but purely an emotional one. I knew he was dead and didn't get anything out of this, but I missed him and I still loved him. It made me feel better to visit him, like we were still together. I felt like he'd be sad if I forgot about him.

"I got you some flowers," I said, laying the wildflowers on the flat stone. I hated how senseless it was. The Capitol had a cure. The _Capitol _had a cure. Leukemia should be in a history book next to smallpox, and it _could _be. But we weren't really people to them. What does it matter if a District kid dies? He's just a District kid.

Walking back into the orphanage after leaving my brother might have been a painful reminder of the kid who wasn't there, but instead it always filled me with warmth. All those little kids, all my little charges, were always so happy to see me. They ran around every room of the old orphanage, filling it with light and movement. When I talked to them, they didn't twist their words and hide behind fake faces. They had simple needs and talked plainly. I understood them so much better than adults. Gala might have been the orphanage mistress on paper, but I was the one the kids came to.

I laid a hand on my protruding stomach as I watched them play. _The baby may have been an accident, but it's _not _a bad thing. Look at all these wonderful kids! Soon I'll have one of my very own. I'm going to be a mother, and I can't wait._

* * *

**Wisteria: Wisteria has dark brown skin and medium brown eyes. She is short and slender, but not underfed. She has poofy, frizzy black hair. She is thirty-four weeks (between eight and nine months) pregnant and has a large baby bump.**

**Apollo: ****he's just small and dirty. He's around 5 foot, and has dirty blonde hair that's almost never combed. He has icy blue eyes, which are small and narrow. He's not desperately skinny like other kids his age in the district, but isn't too healthy.**


	10. Three and Seven females

**I still need a few of the males so I'll work with what I have. I still need a Three male from Sparky She-Demon, a Six female from Tracelynn, an Eight male and Nine female from CarlpoppaLOL, and a Nine male from Manny3564 or some number like that. That's not a deadline or anything, just telling you why those Districts weren't written yet. I also put those up there because sometimes I make the reservations but forget to tell people, so they don't know they had a Tribute. This way they can see their names and know.  
**

* * *

Yttria Noxus- District Three female

Dear Mom and Dad

I tossed it into the bin. _This is a _speech, _not a letter._

I have something important to tell you. _That's okay for a first draft. _It didn't matter how I broached the subject, I just had to broach it somehow.

I know science is really important. Your work is important and I'm really glad I got to learn so much from you. And it's _because_I learned so much from you that I know this with confidence. Astronomy is really important, but it's not what I want to do when I grow up. I want to be a writer.

I tossed it into the bin. _That's so cheesy!_

I nibbled on my fingernail, tapping my other hand on the table. It felt so weird to be this nervous. Usually I was so carefree and easygoing. I knew what I liked and didn't like and was comfortable being me. This was the only time I'd ever been so unconfident and anxious. Parents were supposed to be the ones you were most comfortable with, but that was never going to be the case, since they were the ones whose approval you wanted more than anything.

A wet lick on my foot made me snap up in my seat. I patted Rosalind's head and she snuffed. "Yeah, let's just get it over with," I said.

"Hey. What are you guys up to?"

I peeked into the dining room, where Mom and Dad were tapping at a tablet showing some schematic or something. They looked up as I came in.

"Just some parallaxes," Dad said. "Want to see?"

"I was just wondering…" I started. I leaned against the wall and fiddled with my fingers. "I had something to say. I kind of- Are you busy, because I can come back?"

"What is it?" Mom asked, smiling at how weird I was acting.

"I want to be a writer when I grow up," I said.

"Wonderful! Research is very important. Like thesis papers, or textbooks?" Mom asked.

"I don't want to write about science. I want to write books," I said. I braced myself for the impact.

Dad's face fell, and I knew it would be even worse than I'd been scared of. "Why would you want to waste your life doing something like that? You're so smart."

"You want me to be happy, right? Writing makes me happy. Astronomy just doesn't," I said.

Mom set the tablet down on the table. "We _do _want you to be happy, but this is very disappointing. We raised you to live up to your potential, and you're throwing it all away? It's just a phase, I'm sure. You wouldn't do something that stupid."

"It's _not _stupid!" I said, actually raising my voice a little and scaring myself. "I'm going to write books about women, and gender stuff, and lots of stuff! They're going to mean something!"

"They're not going to mean _anything!" _my father said, and his eyes flashed. "There's nothing useful in that! You have the brains to add something to the cold, real world of science and you're choosing worthless 'literature'. I hope your mother is right."

That was when I knew it was useless to keep saying anything. Mother wasn't right, not about either of her points. I wasn't going to change my mind and my books wouldn't be useless. If this was how they were taking it, this is how they would be from now on.

"Yeah, maybe," I said, and I turned around and left. I should have been devastated my parents shot me down like that, but I really wasn't. I'd gotten it off my chest and they would do what they wanted with it. Smart as they were, I knew my parents were blowhards. They thought astronomy was the only science in the world and that the whole world would fall apart if Hydrox and Lilthia Nox didn't keep doing it. They weren't perfect and they handled this wrong. This was going to be a strain on us, but I knew they still loved me, even though they weren't always right. I'd done my part, and I felt as light as air.

"Come on, Rosie," I said, stroking her ear as she followed me to the door. "Let's go for a walk."

* * *

Jezzebell Fern- District Seven female

I was pretty good at throwing darts. That would be because I was also pretty good at being broke, and you can't order drinks if you don't have money. Or at least if you do, they won't bring you any, because Leif the bartender totally knows you since you're there every week. There wasn't a pool table at our tiny little dive bar, but there _was _a dart board. People will pay weird amounts of money to see a girl do cool dart shots. By 'weird' I just mean enough for a few drinks, but that seems like a weird amount of money to me, since all I did was throw a dart.

The crowds had been generous- 'the crowds' being a couple of off-duty drivers from the lumberyards. They got paid more since they were licensed to operate power equipment, so they had some extra money to throw my way. So I'd gotten four drinks over the last few hours, which was more than I'd gotten in a month. That was all I was going to get, too, since I was no longer in good condition to throw pointed things.

"You want to say that again?"

It came from halfway across the bar, but it was a small bar. Two rough-looking guys, obviously farther into their bottles than the time of night would suggest, were looking at each other meaningfully.

"I _said _they were _loaded," _the second man said.

The best part of bars is how very quickly fights break out. You look at someone's friend the wrong way, it turns out she's his sister, and anything goes. Accusations of cheating were always worth percussive deliberation. The first man launched at the second, knocking over both their chairs. One guy started trying to break it apart, but the rest picked sides pretty much randomly. I could have been smart and joined that one guy, but everyone else was having more fun.

I smashed my glass, hoping that in all the chaos Leif wouldn't notice who did it. Armed with the biggest shard, I jumped in. I took a few hits and would have a nice shiner the next day, but I gave as good as I got. When the first Peacekeeper burst in, I had one arm around some guy in a headlock and the other hand full of his ear, which was no longer attached.

"Peacekeeper!" someone yelled, and the fight started to evaporate. The more dedicated parties, like myself, waited until the last minute. The Peacekeepers were pretty nice, really. They actually asked me to leave and only started bodily lifting me after I ignored them. They carried me out like a submarine, horizontally across three of their arms.

"I know this was you, Jezzebell!" Leif yelled, pointing at the glass shards on the bar, his hair matted and strewn with spilled liquor and glass.

I twisted in the Peacekeeper's arms to look back around them at him.

"Put it on my taaaaaab!"

* * *

**Yttria: ****Yttria is of African-American descent. She has smooth chocolate skin and is rather tall. Her face is more roundish and her lips are round and full. Yttria's hair is dyed white with some grey strains here and there. Her hair is almost always tied into two braids on either side that go down to her hips. Yttria wears black, framed glasses and there's a small gap between her front teeth that stands out when she smiles. She loves to wear bennies and she almost always has one on. She's also quite curvy.**

**Jezzebell: ****Natural blonde shoulder length hair, Petite frame with curves, 5'3**

**This one turned out fun. It's funny to imagine these self-complete and totally different scenes happening halfway across Panem at the same moment.**


	11. Everyone I Had Left

**Here's all the forms I currently have in my file. I might have some more submissions buried in PMs, so I'll check. Otherwise, I'm still needing **** a Three male from Sparky She-Demon, a Six female from Tracelynn, an Eight male and Nine female from CarlpoppaLOL, and a Nine male from Manny3564 or some number like that. I don't mind however long it takes, I'm just putting the names up in case someone didn't know they had a reservation. Or if your name is up here and you DID send your Tribute, message me and I'll know to go dig it up. Sometimes I forget to copy and paste forms. They'll still be in my inbox, though, so they're not lost.  
**

* * *

Enzo Ranger- District Six male

Bread and butter was my bread and butter. Today even more literally than usual, since Mrs. Jetson had ordered a loaf of bread, a pack of butter, and a half-gallon of milk. Most business preferred larger orders, but I could only carry what I could actually carry. I let the grocery bag bounce against my leg as I walked down the sidewalk toward her building.

After I got out of the elevator and reached her door in the middle of the hall, I rang the bell.

"Hold on!" she yelled, and I heard the sounds of a mother shoving messes aside and shooing a child on her way to the door. The door opened, and Mrs. Jetson smiled at me.

"Hello, Enzo! My, you're so quick, I wasn't even expecting you yet!" She shoved a hand into her pocket and came out with a small wad of crumpled bills.

"I think there's a little extra in there, but that's okay," she said.

"I won't sweat it if you don't," I said, and I winked. I didn't bother to count the money before putting it in my pocket. I knew Mrs. Jetson was good for it. And if I was going to cheat someone, it wouldn't be the boy who delivered my groceries, and it would be for more than a couple of cents.

'_You'll never get a job if you don't do your homework', _I mockingly chided myself, mentally imitating my mother's voice. I thought of my father, hurriedly filling out my English sheets while she wasn't looking, because I was too busy with my job. I did _most _of my homework, anyway. Especially the math. Gotta be able to count those fat stacks. Maybe not that fat, but stacks at least.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Pibb," I said when I reached the next customer down the hall. I bought groceries for a couple of floors of a building at a time, more or less depending on if people were ordering baking soda or a ham. I started with the top floor and worked my way down.

"Hope she's worth it," I said as I handed him a bag containing strawberries and baking chocolate. He blushed and slunk back into his apartment.

One of the best things about my job was seeing so many different people. Some of them had a lot to talk about, like Miss Cela and her twenty white rats. Or old Mr. Newton, who could sling jokes back at me as fast as I fired them. I liked seeing all the specific people that made up our crowded District. There was so much life in the dull, stark apartment complexes. Through the cracked-open doors, I could see every apartment all decorated in different ways, from Mrs. Jetson's child-filled chaos to Mr. Pibb's stark bachelor pad. It made me smile seeing Six chugging along, full of all these tiny slices of life. Just some food for thought, I guess.

* * *

Sundew "Sun" Keope- District Twelve female

Bryony and I walked down the dirt path, not really doing anything in particular. There wasn't much _to _do in Twelve. We could look in the windows at things we could never buy, or walk in the woods and smell flowers, and that was about it.

"Rowan kept _peeking _at me in history class," Bryony said, dancing out in front of and around me as we walked. "Of course I wouldn't know if I hadn't been peeking back at him. And he definitely saw me, and he kept peeking. Do you think he likes me?"

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe you should ask him."

"I _knoooow, _but I'm _nervous," _Bryony said. "I don't want to seem clingy, but I also don't want him to think I'm not interested and go after someone else. I think I'll peek at him again tomorrow, and if he's still peeking at me, then after school I'll say something. Unless he says something first…"

I was listening, really. I just wasn't really paying attention to every single word. Bryony was my friend and I was happy being with her, but when she talked about things that seemed so unimportant, I kind of just absently listened. What she cared about was that I was with her, not that I was spellbound by her stories.

"Oh my gosh! Look!"

Bryony bent over suddenly. She pushed a metal trashcan sideways and picked up a little glittering circle. She gasped quietly at the dirty, but still shiny, object.

"A whole half-dollar," she said. "Someone must have dropped it and not seen where it went, or they were so rich they didn't want to touch a trash can."

"Lucky," I said. Money didn't just grow on the ground, especially in Twelve.

"That's a quarter for me and a quarter for you," Bryony said, catching me by surprise. If I'd found the coin, it wouldn't even have entered into my head to share it. Once Bryony said that, I felt a little guilty.

"I suppose we should really use it for something smart," I said, though I didn't want to.

"Or… we could buy those flower hairbands I always look at," Bryony said. "They're so pretty, and I've been looking at them for weeks. We'll never find another half-dollar again, probably in our whole lives."

It wasn't hard to talk me into it. We headed for the shop, stopping sometimes to look at other window displays at the things we could actually afford now.

"I'm so excited," Bryony said, as much to herself at to me. She didn't mind if you weren't listening, as long as you weren't _not _listening. "I've wanted those hairbands for so long. But I never thought I could afford them! I'm going to ask my mom to braid my hair and I'll wear mine when I talk to Rowan tomorrow. He'll think I'm so pretty…"

One of the displays caught my eye, and I stopped. My eyes landed on a pair of fake silver bangle bracelets with black glass jewels.

"Those are really pretty. Let's buy those instead," I said. I started through the doorway.

"Well…" I heard Bryony behind me. Then she started walking. "Those are nice, too. And we can match. That's the most important part." She followed me into the store, and soon we had matching bracelets. She was right. This was definitely better than buying something smart.

* * *

**Enzo: Enzo is slightly tanned, with almond shaped brown eyes that look black. He's tall and agile, and his hair is shoulder length. He can be called handsome, but in a very plain way.**

**Sun: ****Sun has thick, dirty blonde hair that falls to just below her shoulders. She always wears it scraped into a high ponytail because she hates it in her face. She has dull, blue eyes and thin lips. She is somewhat tall for her age and gender, coming in at 5'9; she weighs about average for her age category too - she's not malnourished like some in twelve.**


	12. Eight Reaping

**Hey I still need a Three male and Seven male from Sparky She-Demon, a Six female from Tracelyn, and a Nine male from Manny61945. Manny is in contact so I know his is coming. To the others on the list: it's okay it's taking longer, I get that I write way faster than most people. I pretty much only give away slots if I think the submitter isn't currently active on fanfic. So if you still want the slots, I just need any sort of message that you're still here.**

* * *

Linden Anderson- District Eight male

Tulle had a nasty look in hey eye as she barreled toward me, stiff-armed and bent forward. I was still racking my mind for what I'd done when she exploded.

"You _bastard! _You _cheated _on me!"

_Oh. That._

It wasn't really such a big deal. It's not like she was pining away every night thinking about me. We weren't together every minute of the day. When we were apart, it made sense we'd do our own thing. I'd _told _her she could have other guys too, I just wanted them to be uglier than me. I liked to think that was most people, so it wasn't unreasonable.

"I didn't think it was a big deal," I said.

"_Not a big deal?" _Tulle said, and I was grateful I'd stayed late to look something up in a reference book and most people had already left the school building. This was not a good look for a popular kid.

"Yeah, it's just sex. It's not like we're married," I said.

Tulle gawked at me for a minute. "Well, it _is _a big deal. A big deal-_breaker, _actually. We're over." She turned and started storming out of the building.

"Hey, come on! I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think you'd mind! I thought we were open!"

Tulle stalked out of sight, leaving me confused and alone. _Guess we're open _now.

As I walked home, I was already thinking of my next move. Tulle was a good girlfriend, but we obviously weren't compatible. I could see that next time, I would have to be more clear about my intentions.

I crossed the street when I heard scuffling sounds in an alleyway. Scuffling alleys were never good, and I was actually relieved when I saw it was just a couple of teenage thugs picking on some other kid. I paused, wondering if I should help, but kept going. Best not to get involved. They weren't killing him, just roughing him up a bit.

"Hey, Linden!" my father, getting up from the table and coming in for a hug when I walked in.

"Hey, Dad. What are you up to?" I asked.

"He sighed, looking down at a paper on the table. "I finalized the list of hires today. At least the pay is good."

Job opportunities are unusual in the House of Rocher. Everyone knew the haute couture gowns weren't actually made by Juno Rocher, and that that level of handmade work required a lot of anonymous Districters. But this order was for the Hunger Games outfits- everything from Caesar's suit to interview gowns. Anyone involved in that was rigorously screened to ensure they would have no contact with anyone of Reaping age. Workers were very well-paid by District standards, but they were separated from their families for months. I never took part in the sewing part of the business, since I was being groomed to take over it all.

"I hope your day was good, at least," he said.

"Eh, I've had better."

* * *

Othella Fline- District Eight female

At least I always knew it was a dream. There was nothing real about the bear that chased me. It was bigger than any real bear, and it had glowing fangs and claws. It had no eyes, just holes that I knew could see me anyway. It foamed at the mouth, and specks flew everywhere when it roared as it ran after me.

Worst of all were the dreams where I couldn't run. Those horrible dreams where you wanted to run, but your legs wouldn't go fast. They moved, but slowly, lazily. And you knew your parents were close and wanted to scream, but it came out a little hiss of air.

I was in a forest this time. Sometimes it was a forest, sometimes it was the cityscape of Eight, and sometimes it was even my house, just a stretched-out version. The bear was always the same distance behind me. I kept running as fast as I could, and I could just keep him behind me. But I knew I'd get slower eventually, and the bear never would.

There was a huge crash, and the bear tumbled forward. Before I could see what he hit, I was looking at the ceiling, realizing something actually _had _crashed. Immediately, my half-asleep brain conjured up the same figure I always imagined. A skinny dark-haired man took shape beside by bed, arms crossed sourly.

"_You got away again," _I pretended he said. My imaginary friend was surprisingly rude. Maybe that says something about me. Personally, I just thought it was because I liked to gather all my negative emotions together and deal with them face-to-face.

I huddled in bed, pushing myself up against the wall and gathering the blankets in. I knew what it was that would kick down a door in the middle of the night.

_They're not supposed to come until Wednesday, _I thought, like it made any difference what the rules were. The Dark Triad were the ones that _made _the rules. They were the ones not to cross in this part of Eight. People gave them their dues, or they dealt with something even worse.

The voices were too quiet to make out much, but I heard what was going on. They were demanding their protection money early, and my father was placating them while my mother fetched it. No doubt they found a surprise source for morphling or some other party drug and wouldn't wait until Wednesday to shoot up. The only thing in my life worse than the bear was the paralyzing, hopeless knowledge that they knew I was here, and if they ever decided to come to my door, Dad wouldn't be able to hold them off.

The door shut, and I lay flat in bed again. The man by my bed looked out absently, unaffected by all of this. Hadley was just imaginary. They couldn't hurt him. They just made him much more visible, so defined he almost seemed real. He came most when I was afraid.

* * *

**Officially a haute couture house has to have a building in Paris, but since Paris is presumably not there, definitions have changed.**

**Linden: ****5ft 10. He has thick, natural black hair that he tends to slick back. His jaw is not strong but it is defined with high cheekbones and a long, slim face. Thing lips with tanned skin and light green eyes. His smile is his most attractive trait. Wide, the type that creates lines on your face. He is seen as attractive.**

**Othella: ****African american. Black flat hair down to the shoulders. 5'3. Tired blue eyes and rings under them.**


	13. Nine Reaping

**Almost there! I just need a Three and Seven male from Sparky She-Demon and a Six female from Tracelynn! I've sent a few messages so soon I'll assume they're busy and start down my waitlist. I also need a Twelve male from Silver, but I'm in contact with her, naturally, and know he's coming.**

**There are hardly any reviews this time around. That's okay, I'm not one of those authors who holds chapters hostage or kills Tributes for it. I assume everyone's just busy with school. It's just something I noticed. Drop me a line if there's a reason, like this story is hella boring or something. But then again, a lot of regular readers have been absent lately, so that's probably a big factor. I presume they're doing school stuff, which is good. I heartily support putting school before fanfic.**

* * *

Porter Crane- District Nine male

I was the fastest of my group of friends. Sure, there were only three of us. Sure, the other two were girls way shorter than me. But that wasn't important. _I _was the fastest. The grass was green and gold around us, swaying in the breeze with its homey rustle. The sun was warm but not hot, and the dirt had its nice dirty smell.

Amelia, Annie and me were running back to me and Amelia's house. We didn't have any laundry to deliver that day, but it was just fun to run. Kids should always run when they can. Life is short, and we were young. Someday we'll be too old to run.

Amelia was right behind me, her brown braids sticking out behind her like streamers on a flag. We were twins and all, so we were similar in most ways, except the obvious one. I was fast, and so was she. Annie wasn't too far didn't care as much about the races anyway, and didn't kill herself like we did.

_Well, well, well. Okay, that's a really dumb joke, but sometimes, those are the best. _

The old well was something of a gathering place in my part of Nine. It depended on the time and season, but after school, it tended to attract the rougher kids. Not really _dangerous _kids, but the kind of kids your mother tells you not to play with.

"Hey, Porter! Having fun beating a couple of girls?" Sage called out from his perch on the well's wooden platform.

"Hey, I take what I can get," I joked back.

Sage and the two others with him, Sedge and some guy I barely knew, got up and came toward us. We looked at each other, wondering if we should run off and ignore them, but we weren't scared.

The third guy looked over Amelia creepily as she panted from our run. "I can give you a reason to be out of breath," he said

"I'm sorry, who are you again?" I asked. "Oh that's right. The one with parents who named you Raper."

"_Reaper!" _he said.

"Right, Reeker," I said, and wrinkled my nose. "I can't imagine why."

"Get out of here before I give you something to smile about," Reaper said, then scowled as he realized that made absolutely no sense. Amelia, Annie and me didn't wait around for him to come up with something better. We made like bananas and split.

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

The wheat grows, and the wheat is harvested. There are seeds, and then sprouts, and then seeds again.

I wasn't usually so philosophical. It just struck me as I played Hunter with the little kids. I used to be that little. I used to be the hunted, tunneling through the long grass and snickering into my hand as the big kids tried to find me. Now I was the big kid, and the new little kids were hiding from me.

The hunting was good. I'd already caught two kids, and I was closing in on a third. I stood still, listening for the shifting grass from the tiny movements I knew from memory I used to make when I was hiding. Or for the flash of color when the breeze moved the blades, exposing a bit of shirt.

When I was little, I thought I was such a good hider. I never imagined that every hunter was a hider before me. I had my strategies and secrets, and I still knew them now. All the little kids hidden in the fields had the same thoughts. I was a good hunter because I was once such a good hider.

Some tiny trigger set me off, and I followed it. I heard the giggle as the target realized he or she was spotted, and then the crunch as whoever it was shot up to run. I bolted after the noise, tagging the fleeing boy by his shirttail.

"Got ya!" I yelled.

Cyrus flopped dramatically into the grass, giggling as he pretended to be killed. We roughhoused for a minute, and then he bolted off to hide again for the next round.

Just after I caught Daisy, the dinner bell sounded. All around me, children stood up and ran toward the row of shacks that made up our homes. I scooped Daisy up for a piggyback ride to the edge of the field. I watched the children stream into the shacks, and the smile faded from my face.

_They're getting ready for the Reaping. _There wouldn't be any games tomorrow. I thought back to where I'd been just a minute ago, and my heart went cold. Playing Hunter didn't seem so fun anymore.

Daisy was just three. She didn't even know what was happening. Cyrus was twelve. I thought of him hiding in tall grass, and running. I thought of a hand snaking out and pulling him down. How he would flop and twist and try to get away. I saw a shape over him, holding him down and tumbling with him. The noises he would make. He wouldn't be pretending.

* * *

**Porter: ****Porter has dark skin, light brown eyes, faded black hair, small nose and a slit in his eyebrows. He is 5'7 and about 140lbs. He's not bulky and has more of a slim build.**

**Visenya: 5ft 9 She has a triangular face, a large nose, large lips, and her dark grey eyes that are droopy. She has elbow-length, fine, light brown hair. She has long arms, a long torso, narrow hips, and long legs.**


	14. Twelve Male

**I would have waited until I had a pair, but I put this out so I could post some updates on the missing slots. The Three and Seven males are coming, the submitter was just having some health stuff and was delayed.I haven't been able to get a response from the Six female submitter after a few weeks of trying, so I'll be starting down the waitlist.  
**

**UPDATE got the name wrong and put someone who already has a slot. Oops! Anyway, the first name on the list is "faceless eater AKA slendergirl". You still want in? If so, send a Six female stat!**

* * *

Argent Ore- District Twelve male

The other children always seemed so terrified when we waited in front of Demi on the stage. I wished I felt like that. Sometimes I did, but it seemed like the last time was a long time ago. I wasn't scared, or brave, or angry, or clueless. I saw a woman about to pick out a piece of paper that could kill me, and I just felt sort of numb.

That was the way it was with me. Empty some days, spilling over on others. Mostly empty, especially since Blossom left me. I didn't blame her, not at all. I was never really a _bad _boyfriend, but I was definitely never a _good _boyfriend. I was surprised she ever agreed to go out with me, and not surprised at all when she broke it off. I wasn't really attractive or special in any way. She was better off without me.

I started to feel something when Demi Reaped Aidan Gilles. He was wailing as he came to the stage, a sort of drawn-out moan that expressed more emotion than I had even when I was having what I called one of my "crazy days". One of the boys next to me shivered in sympathy. It made me happy that people still cared about each other so much.

"Do we have any volunteers?" Demi called. She started turning to the other bowl right away. No one volunteered in Twelve.

"I volunteer as Tribute!" I said, stopping Demi mid-twist. She turned her head and tried to pick me out of the crowd. I raised my hand, then started toward the stage.

My heart lightened as I walked. My eyes were on Aidan, who was looking around as though it might have been an angel who said it. I started to smile, and it just got bigger and bigger. I'd done something worth doing, made something worthwhile of myself. Aidan would remember this forever, and I hoped he lived a full, happy life. And he deserved it. He had people who loved him, I knew he did. Me… I never had that. There was nothing to love about me. I'd go out of the world, and no one would be the worse for it. Blossom would probably miss me for a while, but she'd find someone better, like she deserved.

I reached my place on the stage, and Aidan scuttled away, his wide eyes on me making me feel larger than life. Demi paused to collect herself and think of something to say before she handed me the microphone.

"This is always a surprise! What's your name, young man?" she asked.

"Argent Ore," I said. She was looking at me oddly, and she pulled the microphone away swiftly when I was done, turning immediately to the girls' bowl. I noticed similar looks from a lot of the kids in the crowd. They were looking at me with confusion, interest, disbelief, and in more cases than one, pity. I wasn't offended. It just almost amused me. The way they were looking at me, you'd think I wanted to die.

* * *

**Argent didn't have a description because Silver whipped him up quick so I could write.**


	15. District Six female

**Hey everyone I got the Six female! The other two are still coming. The submitter is still dealing with some health stuff and it would be so mean to be like 'ha ha ur sick u can't be in my story' so it's just sort of on hold until the last two are ready. In the meantime, I'm substitute writing for 's story Ohana, so if you just need an LCS fix, come see me there.**

* * *

Gasoly Wayfarer- District Six female

I stalked down the street, head forward and fists bunched at my sides. I wasn't mad, I just always walked like that. That's what happens when you're kind of fat. But anyway, I was walking extra fast because I had a very important mission.

_CAPITOL BUILDING, _the glass plaque on the skyscraper read. Not the _real _Capitol building, of course, but the capitol of District Six. I opened the fancy gold door and walked in like I owned the place. I sort of did, since the building was made for the people of Six and I was from Six… for now.

I read each sign I passed until one told me where the governor's office was. I made a beeline right for it and stepped into the room. There was a water cooler, some potted plants, and a lady sitting behind a desk. She looked at me oddly as I came in and walked to her desk.

"Excuse me, are you the mayor?" I asked.

"I'm the secretary," she said, like it was a silly question. She put her nail file down on her desk. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No," I said. "I need to find out how to move to another District."

"Move… to another District?" she asked, her voice rising at the end of the sentence and her head tilting.

"District Ten," I said. "I want to work with animals."

"I'm sorry, there's no moving between Districts," the woman said.

My stomach fell. "What?" I asked.

"It's just… not done," she said.

"There has to be a way," I said. "I don't belong in Six. I don't like the smell of gasoline. I like animals. So I belong in Ten."

"I'm sorry, it's just not possible," the woman said. "If there's nothing else-"

"No one _ever _moves _ever?" _I asked.

"Only essential workers with government permits," the woman said.

"What's an essential worker?" I asked.

"A surgeon, perhaps. Someone who must be there themselves," the woman asked. The phone on her desk rang. "Excuse me," she said, and picked it up. I could tell from how she looked away from me that she wanted me to leave.

I stood outside the capitol building, arms crossed and trying not to cry. I hated it when things went wrong. It felt like the whole world was ending and nothing mattered. I couldn't stay in Six my whole life. I didn't like cars or gas or fixing things. All those times my parents dragged me to work to find what I was "passionate" about, and there wasn't anything. I wasn't passionate about any of it. I was _passionate _about _animals._

_What do you mean 'no moving'? Too bad. She doesn't know everything. I'll find the person who does. And if there isn't anyone, I'll just become an essential worker. Veterinarians are very important, and so are the people who make horseshoes. I'm not really smart enough to be a vet, but I can learn to make horseshoes. Horses need shoes, so they need _me!

* * *

**Gasoly: **

**Gasoly is relatively tall for a girl her age, standing at 5'8ft, but that is not what makes her a noteworthy person. It's her weight that sets her apart, as she is 198Ilbs, making her simply fat and even she can't deny that anymore. ****She has black hair that reaches down to her shoulder blades, which she wears open most of the time, because she isn't even able to make a ponytail. Her eyes are big and of dark blue, with long lashes and bushy eyebrows. ****Gasoly is Caucasian, but is lucky that her skin tans quite quickly**

**I feel like there's someone I have the form for but haven't written. Hit me up if you sent a character and haven't seen him or her.**


	16. SEND ME A SEVEN MALE

**GIVE ME ONE. NOW.**

The reserved submitter for the Three and Seven males is unable to participate due to medical issues. Therefore I need a Three and Seven male. I got the Three reserved to the waitlist, but that was the last person on the waitlist so ANYONE, GIVE ME A SEVEN MALE. You get the form in first, I take it. First one I see. I don't care if it sucks. I've been stalled for two months and I'm ready to go. So send me a form, I don't care how short it is. If you want you can add more later. Gimme a name and a sentence, or a word, of personality. POSTHASTE!

* * *

Titian Qin

_Why are the Three and Seven Reapings taking so long? How long does it take to pull a name out of a bowl? Five seconds? It takes longer to say than to do!_


	17. Actual Seven Male

Adair Oakson- District Seven male

I jittered as I waited in the crowd with all the other boys. Every part of me was moving, from my legs as I shifted my movement back and forth, to my feet bouncing on my heels, to my fingers restlessly tapping each other behind my back in a nervous habit I'd picked up long ago. Not that I had any reason to be nervous. It was just the day we picked a boy to die. And a girl, but that didn't affect me, so to be honest it didn't seem like quite so big a deal.

The Reaping was complicated. It was the scariest day of the year, but also undeniably the most exciting. It was the only time every kid in the District was packed together in a writhing mass of nervous, twitchy adolescence. Every time I wondered if maybe this would be the year one of the kids we sent actually won. There would be parades and parties and most importantly, packages of food and goodies raining from the sky like someone shot Santa Claus right out of the air. Ninety percent of me was always about ready to faint, and the other ten percent was caught up in the sheer spectacle of it all, from wild dreams of winning to the strange outsider Capitolites who came to pretend it was all an actual game and stand around having no idea how crazy they looked in their clothes and makeup.

It was funny how scared I was of Minerva when she stepped onstage. She was a thin lady who looked like a porcelain statue. She looked like she would crack if she fell over, at least if she wasn't wearing half a dozen red ruffles all up her like a tube, but she still scared the daylights out of me. It was her lily-white hands that picked a name out of a bowl and her rose-red lips that said it out loud. I probably would have thought she was pretty if I didn't think she was a worse thing to see than Medusa's split ends.

_Just do it._

_This is so exciting._

_I can't bear it._

_Just get it over with._

_I should volunteer._

I had thoughts like that sometimes. Stupid, brainless thoughts that I sometimes acted on before I remembered I could be really dumb. Even I wasn't _that _dumb, though. Despite the wild vision I had of bravely winning the Games, getting crowned Victor, bringing fortune and presents to Seven and living forever as a hero, I knew it wouldn't be like that. So, even though the words formed themselves in my mouth when the thought popped into my head, I shoved them back down my throat where they wouldn't get me killed.

_Ha, not getting me _that _way, me, _I thought. Gotta get up pretty early in the morning to put one over me, even if the one doing the putting over is also me.

"Adair Oakson!"

_Son of a gun._

* * *

**Adair didn't have a personality since his form was a temporary short one so I could write. Now I just need a Three male (which is set up and I expect it will just take a few days to put together) and I can rush forward like a popped dyke.**


	18. Three male

Cobalt "Coby" Keyes- District Three male

One last Reaping.

One more year, and I'm home free.

After today, it's all smooth sailing. I'm not the valedictorian or anything, but I got good grades. And I don't want to be a tech wizard anyway. The really smart kids will take those jobs, and I'll sit behind a desk and push papers. I'd seen my parents' jobs. They went to work in the morning, sorted people out and did admin stuff, came home at night, and sat around. They got paid good money and we had a good life. I was gonna do all that, except the relaxing part.

My parents liked cooking, and reading, and some date nights at the arcade. I was a little more adventurous, for better or for worse. I just liked to _do _instead of _thinking _all the time, like so many people in Three. I _could _think, but sometimes I liked to do first and think about it later. Sometimes that got me into trouble… but it also got me some awesome stories.

I had my limits, though. I wasn't going to do anything stupid this close to being free of Reapings. I was going to stand quietly, keep my head down, and get home.

Bubbles picked the girl name first. She squinted at the paper. She turned it upside down, like that would make the name easier to read.

"Y- Yttria? Yttria Noxus?" she called. A girl walked heavily to the stage, eyes unfocused.

"And now the boys!" Bubbles continued. She reached into the bowl. "Kepler Modem!"

_Oh, no. Not Kepler_

Kids that age should be drinking chocolate milk and calling girls "cooties". I'd seen Kepler do both those things in the last month. Little pipsqueak was the smallest one in my class. The kid skipped four grades and could do calculus in his head, and he stilled called his mother "mommy".

Kepler was bawling when he walked on the stage. He was screaming for his mother again- there's that word again- "Mommy! Mommy!" Holding out his arms to her like she could come and pick him up.

_I have to do something. Wait, there's something I can do!_

"I volunteer as Tribute!"

The thought came a second after the words.

_I just killed myself. And there's no getting it back._

"No, wait!" I yelled, when the Peacekeepers came after I took too long to move. Kepler vanished from my head and I cast out like a drowning man. "Wait, I changed my mind!"

I was onstage, next to Bubbles. She put her microphone by me to see if I had any words.

"I don't volunteer!" I screamed. "I changed my mind!"

Bubbles made a cute little Capitol confused-face. She turned to look behind the stage.

"Can he-" the microphone blared her whisper across the stage and she hastily covered it. She mouthed something at an unseen stagehand. My heart thudded so hard it hurt as I waited. My breakfast slid into my mouth and I swallowed it without thinking.

_Let me take it back. I didn't mean it. Don't make me go._

"So sorry," she said, like I'd missed a ring in a carnival game. She wagged a finger at me. "No backsies!"

I stood shaking as I looked at the side of her face as she smilingly turned to the audience. My stomach clenched, and I thought I would throw up all over again. I stared like an already-dead thing, mouth open and reliving it over and over.

One instant.

One second, and I threw everything away. On the last second that my life dangled from a piece of paper, the last second before I finished the last gauntlet and came out safe forever, I made one mistake. One mistake, and it was all over. There was no fixing this. Life was that easy to lose. No backsies.

* * *

**AT LAST! After the single most painful Reaping process in my history, I am finally done! Pretty sure I've written entire SYOTs in less time than these Reapings. Thanks to some speedy last-minute fillers-in, we can finally move forward. We're past the bottleneck now and I can let my speedy writing flag fly.**

**Colby doesn't have an appearance yet since he has an abbreviated form written quickly so I could finish the Reapings.**


	19. Semper I

**Hey everybody. It's the Marine Corps birthday. Know what that means? It means I'm PLASTERED. So if there are mistakes here, it's because I am three sheets to the wind and had to type pretry much every sentence twice trying to see the letters clearly. OORAH SEMPER FI!**

* * *

Blake Armani- District One mentor

Peridot and Azure were horrified when they found out about Grande. Me, I was happy. Every One Tribute has demons. Otherwise we wouldn't volunteer. Grande was mature enough to acknowledge his and enlist the help of a therapist. That showed that he knew he was mortal, which was more than most Ones could say. Elissa was a little less… pragmatic, shall we say, but her kind had won before. Religion wasn't something I had any experience with or could honestly say I understood, but it had worked before. Tillo won. Nubu won. I had to confront my own biases and remember it was the mentee that mattered, not me.

* * *

Pray Jager- District Two mentor

"You volunteered. And you have a kid."

Donatella looked back at me guiltily. We both knew what she'd done.

"All right. I'll focus on the one worth my time," I said. I turned to Atticus.

"I'm ready," he said. From what I heard, he was. I heard he crippled a kid to get this position. Good. A kid that could get crippled by his opponent didn't deserve the Arena.

"I hope so," I said.

* * *

Gidget Ford- District Three

I couldn;t look at Colby. My own children were so much like him. In the coming years, who could say they wouldn't make the same mistake. _My mom did it, _they might say. _So can I. _I couldn't even look at him.

Yttria, on the other hand, didn't volunteer. She was just a normal girl who got sucked into this, just like me. She had the same chance as me. Better, probably. I honestly wasn't that smart. She could win this. I could help her. And if I lost her, it wouldn't feel like losing my own children. I could bear to help her.

* * *

Shane Donegal- District Four mentor

Caio was just like I had been. He gloried in the fight. He thought the fight was its own end. He wanted to hurt someone just to prove he could. I wished I could condemn him. But I used to be him. I couldn't say he was evil. Not when I used to do the same thing.

* * *

Careen Ellis- District Four mentor

"So," I said.

"A mermaid. Told you to volunteer," I said.

"No," Seychelle said.

"I was already going to volunteer. I'm the moon knight," she said.

"Oh. Good," I said. "Much better."

* * *

Sky Levings- District Five mentor

"You know silver comes from Two?" Meenah started, looking at her fork. "It's mined in the colloidal sector. It's very difficult to extract. It's very labor-intensive…"

She went on, telling me every detail of why silver was so valuable and why I should invest in it. I half wanted to sink my Victor's allowance into silver speculation. Meanwhile Klaus stared at his own fork, silently crying. Some things don't have any words.

* * *

Lancia Audren- District Six mentor

A messenger boy and an animal lover. What could I do with them?

"You must be charismatic," I said to Enzo.

"What's that mean?" he asked.

"Good at talking," I said.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said.

I looked at Gasoly. She had the genuine and sincere air of a child trapped in an adult's body, unable to accept the coldness and cynicism that came with maturity. She wasn't so easy to reach. The only animal I knew was the wild boar that ate Camellia. She got better, but it still wasn't a memory I liked. The way its tusks glinted. Camellia's high shrieks, and the moment worst of all, when they stopped….

Animals weren't my forte.

* * *

Hades Rodriguez- District Seven mentor

"Darts," I said.

"Yeah," Jezzebel said. "I'm good at darts."

"People have won before," I said. "I recommend poisoning them."

_I wasn't like this before._

I won my Games by hiding and getting lucky. I never imagined this. I never imagined advising someone how to best kill someone.

Adair looked at me, waiting for me to tell _him_ how to best kill someone. And damn me, because I told him.

* * *

Tillo Peters- District Eight mentor

Let them win. Let them lose. Let them do what they will do, and it's not my responsibility. The Capitol can put me in charge of them, but it doesn't make a difference. Games are won by Tributes, not mentors.

And if this Games was won by one of mine, it would be Linden, not Othella. I bent over her records, reading about a girl occupied with an imaginary friend in place of reality. Othella would rather talk to herself than face the world. Linden had a chance. Not that I cared. He didn't deserve victory, not morally. Othella deserved it, and Linden was capable of it. So let them both die, and let me not care.

* * *

Nassor Doyle- District Nine mentor

Visenya could do it. I wished she couldn

* * *

't. I wished I could get two cripples every year, two children incapable of winning. It would be easier to waych them die than to think they could live.

Porter couldn't do it. He could run, and that meant he'd survive the Bloodbath. He'd live, and curse me to watch them come for him until he died.

Visenya was worse. She could win. She'd curse me to something worse that watching. She would curse me to hope.

* * *

Bambi Kirkland- District Ten mentor

I'd never seen it before. A Reaped girl who'd refused a volunteer.

That was what it was, of course. That nonsense about assigned gender was just a ruse to make sure Paloma's sister was safe. Verlynne was a girl, just like Paloma. And Paloma was noble enough to stop it. That meant she was noble enough to die.

In contrast, Gavin seemed mundane. Just another boy. Reaped. Chosen to die. Chosen by lottery to satisfy the bloodlust of a decades-old vendetta. And so he would die, like so many before him. Like the ones I killed, and could never forget.

* * *

Frankie Disney- District Eleven mentor

Vera told me I should take the pills before the Reaping. She said I should see the Reaped as people, not just names on paper. I couldn't see that without the chemicals that told my brain was normal brains already knew: that life was valuable. That people were worth living.

I didn't take the pills.

Vera had to feel the pain. She had to see them as people. She had a human mind, that saw things in the human way. I had a robot's brain, seeing nothing but equations unless I took supplements to replace the chemicals I couldn't make. I saw the way she cried after the Reapings. She was stronger than me, dealing with what she couldn't avoid. I could avoid it, and I did. I let them be nothing but names and faces. Vera couldn't not take the pills, but I could, and I did.

* * *

Nubu Sanders- District Twelve mentor

He was committing suicide. Argent, a child, wanted to die.

There was no other reason he'd volunteer. Every Twelve knew that was a death warrant. From the moment we could walk, from the moment we could read a word, we knew the Reaping was our death.

Argent chose to die so someone else could live. I wished I could talk him out of it, but I wished I'd done the same. I shouldn't have won. I would never scrub from my mind the girl who should have. The girl I should have died in place of.

And then there was Sundew. So complicated. So beyond what I could categogrize. And yet so worthy of life. I knew in my heart that I hoped Argent would live, and that it meant I wished Sundew would die. God judge me for making that decision.

* * *

**Happy birthday oorah semper fi literally cannot see the keyboard right now I'd write more but I'm hammered see you tomorrow and if you want to do me a solid, thank a Marine today. Best birthhday EVER some former MArine gives free food and booze to MArines in New Orleans SEMPER FI!**


	20. Last Looks

Hollan Makhpiya- District One stylist

"It's definitely one bracelet."

The Peacekeeper looked at me like I was as dumb as a bag of hammers, or at least that I thought _he_ was.

"It's one bracelet," he said flatly, holding up Elissa's token. Nearly a dozen bracelets lay in his hand, hastily tied together with some ribbon.

"It's called a bangle bracelet," I said. "It's called fashion. Look it up."

The Peacekeeper was unconvinced. The bribe money Blake had slipped me was more convincing.

* * *

Tigris Chatte- District Two stylist

Poor Hollan. We both knew it was a terrible idea to allow Capitolites to vote on one of this year's District outfits. Of course they'd pick One, and of course they'd pick… what poor Hollan was having to use. I felt a little guilty as I told my Tributes what they'd be wearing. Two always looked chic, and compared to One this year, we were going to steal the show.

* * *

Paris Tile- District Three stylist

My first year solo. Cilantro was enjoying his carefree twilight years, and I was young and hungry.

"Here's what we're gonna do," I said to Yttria and Colby. "You guys know binary?"

"There are 10 kinds of people in the world. Those that know binary and those that don't," Colby said.

"What does that mean?"

* * *

Rouge Twain- District Four stylist

"I want to be a centurion," Caio said.

"Oh… I was kind of thinking a merman," I said.

"A centurion would be better," Caio said. He started going through the racks and taking out things he liked. "Something like this…"

Funny enough, he had pretty good taste. I started to get into it, and before I knew it, he was a centurion. And it worked out perfectly with Seychelle, who confessed that she wanted to be a knight and not a mermaid. A centurion and a knight. A little off-beat for Four, but they _were _ a Career District. Maybe it was time to let them look it.

* * *

Blue Paletti- District Five stylist

"Why do I have to be the wind turbine?" Klaus asked as I fitted the headpiece onto him.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Her name is literally Turbine," he said, pointing at Meenah.

"Hey, leave me out of this," she said. He made a face at her.

A few minutes later, he was the one laughing.

* * *

Puff Auri- District Six stylist

"I've never had a fat Tribute before," I said, poking at Gasoly's stomach.

"I've never had a _rude _stylist before," she said, folding her arms.

"So what's the costumes?" Enzo asked.

"I was going to go with something else," I said. "But looking at you two… I've had the best idea."

* * *

Flora Kettle- District Seven stylist

Adair and Jezzebell ransacked through my poor dressing room, tossing things this way and that.

"What's this?" Adair asked, holding up a last season Courtier Lane peplum.

"It's-" I started. He tossed it aside and started opening up eyeshadow compacts.

"Don't you have anything good in here?" Jezzebell asked. She slouched down onto a pile of clothes. "These are all so frilly and fancy. Got any catsuits?"

_Well I certainly have two cats to herd, anyway._

* * *

Mint Goblet- District Eight stylist

"As a stylist, I have a very important job," I announced to Othella and Linden. "It's my job to teach you everything you need to know about fashion."

"Can you teach me how to stay alive? That's really what I care about," Linden said.

"Yeah, just Linden," Othella said, rolling her eyes. "No one else here wants to survive."

"There can only be one, okay? I'm not gonna fake it and pretend I care. I don't care, but at least I'll tell you right to your face," Linden said.

Othella shot him a look and turned to me. "_Anyway," _she said. "I'd like to hear about fashion."

* * *

Baste Marinade- District Nine stylist

"This year, you're going to wear a suit made of wheat," I told Porter.

"Great! Wheat is the best fabric. That's why we grow it, after all. We grow cotton to eat and wheat to wear," he said.

"That's odd. Most people eat wheat and wear cotton," I said. I shrugged. "Nine is very strange."

Visenya didn't say much, but I saw what she was trying to hide. I saw the way she leaned to the side and peeked around me when Linden was taking his shirt off. Oh, to be young again. Not that being old stopped me from looking at cute guys.

* * *

Phoebe Vane- District Ten stylist

Fashion is like a river. It flows to the sea, and the sea flows back into the river. Art is cycles, generations of people saying the same things in new words. Beauty stays the same, and styles rise, fall, and rise again. How delightfully reflexive that currently, retro was in.

And retro meant cows.

* * *

Creme Brulee- District Eleven stylist

Wisteria looked up at me from her seat in front of the vanity. She had the most peculiar, unsettling expression. Then I noticed the stain on her pants.

_Oh heavens she's wet herself._

"Excuse me?" Wisteria said. "I think my water broke."

"Your water?" I asked. "Oh. _OH! _OH MY GOSH! OH NO! WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO? WHAT! ARE! WE! GONNA! DO! SOMEONE GET A DOCTOR! GET A DOCTOR! _SHE'S HAVING A BABY!"_

* * *

Cuisine Martinique- District Twelve stylist

I huddled by the door, trying to listen through the crack.

"_What's going on?" _Fauna, Tigris' assistant, whispered.

"They're checking her pulse and stuff," I whispered back. "Oh, they're coming this way."

Fauna and I hid around the corner, peeking out as the medics escorted Wisteria.

"This is so dramatic," I said. "I love for this."

A few hours later, I remembered I had two Tributes waiting in their underwear.


	21. Laurels

TALLULAH TULLE: Hellllllll_oooooo, _Panem!

PRIAM STEED: It's time for the-

TOGETHER: Fifty-Seventh Laurels!

* * *

PRIAM: Elissa starts us off strong, in a stunning black velvet dress studded with gorgeous diamonds, falling like dispersing rain to disappear at her feet. She shows off One's talent for accessorizing with her sparkling gemstone bracelets.

TOGETHER: 10/10

TALLULAH: And Grande is a diamond. An actual diamond. Bless his heart, he's trying to wave. That's hard when you're a diamond.

PRIAM: It's not _wrong, _though. 4/10

TALLULAH: Not pretty, 3/10

* * *

TALLULAH: Oh, this one's nice! A pair of Spartan warriors. Donnatella likes the bling a little more, though, since hers is gold.

PRIAM: Gold is very soft. That would be a terrible material for armor.

TALLULAH: Ahhh! Atticus is roaring at the crowd. This one's too scary!

PRIAM: A pair of nines for this one.

TALLULAH: Yeah, that's about right.

* * *

TALLULAH: What is that?

PRIAM: There's ten kinds of people in the world. Those who know binary, and those that don't.

TALLULAH: That's just two kinds!

PRIAM: Binary is just ones and zeroes. Ten!

TALLULAH: Zero!

* * *

PRIAM: Caio was born in the wrong District. He should be a One.

TALLULAH: I wish he was a Capitolite. I'd watch him in the movies.

PRIAM: What a performer. He could be wearing a potato sack and the crowd would still love him.

TALLULAH: Flash them guns. 10 for him and 8 for Seychelle, just because she's less energetic.

* * *

_Who's that man with rock-hard arms?_

_ATLAS! ATLAS!_

_Who's the man with iron legs?_

_ATLAS! ATLAS!_

_A spoon a day and you are too!_

_ATLAS! ATLAS!_

_With ATLAS protein powder. Build muscles with gourmet food._

_ATLAS IS THE BESTEST!_

* * *

PRIAM: Really Meenah should be the turbine.

TALLULAH: Whoever heard of a sexy wind turbine?

PRIAM: Whoever heard of a sexy battery?

TALLULAH: Apparently Meenah. Girl's _selling _it. 8/10 best sexy battery I've seen

PRIAM: 3/10 for Enzo both having a terrible costume and sulking.

* * *

PRIAM: She's gonna blow!

TALLULAH: That's not nice!

PRIAM: I think we all see the elephant in the room.

TALLULAH: That's not _nice!_

PRIAM: Oh, come on. She's an overinflated tire, he's a flat one. Ha ha get it?

TALLULAH: _0/10 for being NOT NICE!_

PRIAM: We're gonna need some bigger numbers.

* * *

TALLULAH: I can't tell which is which.

PRIAM: Usually tree suits don't cover the _entire person. _Kind of counterintuitive.

TALLULAH: They can't even move! Poor things. What was Flora thinking?

PRIAM: Oh, there one goes! _Timberrrrr!_

TALLULAH: 5/10 now, since there's only one there.

* * *

TALLULAH: Oh, she looks so sad.

PRIAM: Can't imagine why.

TALLULAH: I think it's kind of cute. Knits and holey jeans are _in._

PRIAM: Better than Linden. Since when is Eight the jock District?

TALLULAH: Not even a very well-done jock.

PRIAM: Wow, he won't get any sponsors with _that _face.

* * *

_If you like honey mixing in with nuts,_

_If you like sugar, no ifs ands or buts,_

_Crisp-crunch baklava! It's what you like!_

* * *

_If you or a loved one has suffered from angina, creutzfeld-jakob disease, or spontaneous esophageal prolapse after taking Catullus Teeth Whiteners, you may be entitled to compensation. Call 888-MONEY._

* * *

PRIAM: Oh, they're wheat.

TALLULAH: Visenya is better wheat though. Look how she's waving at all the little kids! Adorable!

PRIAM: And look at Porter, who just realized she's doing that and is now waving at all the old people. And making kissy faces at them.

TALLULAH: Some people are into that. Not me, but some people.

PRIAM: Since I'm not gluten intolerant, 6/10 very nice wheat.

* * *

TALLULAH: That's not-

PRIAM: That's not very nice? That's what you were gonna say, right?

TALLULAH: She's a _cow! _And he's a _butcher! _

PRIAM: Have a sense of humor. Look, she does! She's letting him "butcher" her.

TALLULAH: _Nooooooooo!_

* * *

PRIAM: Little PSA, everyone. Wisteria isn't present because she had prior commitments.

TALLULAH: What? She's having a baby!

PRIAM: She made _that _commitment nine months ago.

TALLULAH: At least Apollo is having fun.

PRIAM: You have to have fun when you're wearing an eggplant suit. Made of eggplants.

* * *

TALLULAH: How lovely! Twelves never get pretty outfits.

PRIAM: Sundew sure doesn't think so.

TALLULAH: _You _wouldn't get it, but it can be very annoying to have hair in your face.

PRIAM: Don't gotta scowl about it though.

TALLULAH: Poor Argent, stuck as silver.

PRIAM: Probably a bad omen or something. At least he's taking it like a champ.

TALLULAH: All right, everyone! That's all the outfits. We'll be right back, and while we're out, make sure to cast your votes!

* * *

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* * *

TALLULAH: Welcome back! Now it's time for our favorite part of the night: handing out our much-coveted Laurels.

PRIAM: Like always, some old and some new. First up: Best District Tie-in. And our winner is: Atticus Scipio!

TALLULAH: My turn! I'm honored to present the Worst District Tie-in Laurel. Our illustrious champion is, to no one's surprise, Linden Anderson!

TALLULAH: Two in a row for me, so I don't get all the bad ones. This year's Most Creative Laurel goes to… Apollo Courfeyrac!

PRIAM: Guess you know what's next. I'm proud to present the laurel for Least Creative Costume to Paloma Bennett. Moo.

TALLULAH: I'm very excited about this new category. The Best Performance Laurel goes to… we have a double winner! Caio Sagres and Meenah Turbine!

PRIAM: Up next, the Most Beautiful Laurel. I don't even have to open the envelope, we all know it's Elissa de Angelo. Good job, Hollan.

PRIAM: One more for me. Perhaps the most entertaining category, next is the Worst in Show Laurel. There were some weighty contenders this year, but the one that triumphed in the end was… Enzo Ranger.

TALLULAH: Last and not least- actually, last and most- the _Best in Show Laurel! _Ooh, I'm so excited! Oh, I can't wait any longer! The Best in Show Laurel winner is… Meenah Turbine!

PRIAM: _What?_

TALLULAH: Panem has spoken.

PRIAM: Panem needs an intervention.

TALLULAH: That's all we have for now, but don't worry, there's plenty more!

PRIAM: You just said…

TALLULAH: Tune in tomorrow for our 24-hour coverage of Tribute fashion and Capitol gossip. Stay snoopy, Panem!

* * *

**LOL Meenah is just THAT good a salesman I guess.**

**BLOOPER I accidentally put Paloma instead of Meenah the first time. What was I thinking they're not even alike!**


	22. Careers

Grande St. Leger- District One male

"I'll be in _so _much trouble if anyone finds out about this," Philomena fretted.

"Relax. You're cool, right? We knew you weren't just a boring old lady," Caio said.

"Oh, well…" Philomena flourished a hand.

We weren't going _far _from the Capitol building. Just around the block, really. Just enough to see what the city looked like and say we actually went in it and not just in one building.

"This fountain is a genuine Daedalus Rex," Philomena said about the giant quartz structure. "I suppose you and Elissa would understand art."

"Oh, I guess," I said. I'd read a million books about it and gone to all the museums in One, but for some reason I couldn't think of anything to say. Capitol art wasn't like old art. It didn't have any reason, or any allure, in my opinion.

I looked around for Elissa, hoping she could help me gather my thoughts. She was sitting on a bench talking to an almond-eyed little boy maybe four years old. She beamed at me when she saw me.

"Grande! This's kid's named Xian! Just like the Ahura!" she said. The kid looked uncertain but not confused. She must have already given him the scoop.

"Let's take him back with us," she said.

"What? We can't just take a kid. He has parents!" I said.

"Well, yeah, just for a while. We'll give him back," she said.

The boy's face screwed up. "I don't want to leave my daddy," he said.

_Oh, no. _He was about to cry, and little kids went full throttle when they cried. A bunch of passersby were about to think we were kidnapping a kid. We were gonna get arrested and Philomena was gonna get Avoxed.

"It's okay!" I said, putting my hands up palms-front to the boy. "We'll find your dad!"

The boy sniffled and looked at me with big teary eyes. I backed away from him slowly.

"Come on, you're freaking him out," I said to Elissa. "Let's just get his dad and get out of here." I gave her the kind of look my mother gave me when I was doing stupid stuff in public and she couldn't blast me because people were watching.

"All right, all right," Elissa said. Just then, a man came toward us.

"What's going on here?" he asked. The little boy ran to him and hugged his legs.

The man looked closer and saw who we were. "Xian, it's the Tributes!" he said.

"They're scary," Xian said.

"Don't complain, or they won't give you autographs," his father said.

"Don't worry, you can have one," I said. I scribbled my name as quickly as I could on a paper the father gave me and handed it to Xian, mentally begging him to take it. I wasn't going to punish anyone for complaining. Xian didn't have to grow up thinking any time he went to his father for comfort, he'd be told off for whining. That would be a horrible way for a kid to live.

* * *

Elissa de Angelo- District One female

I'd hoped I would make some friends in the Capitol, even though I knew they wouldn't last. It was just natural for people who spent a lot of time together to get close. Either that or hate each other, but I wasn't much of a hater.

Anyway, I got my wish in Seychelle. All my Career allies were cool in their own ways, but Seychelle was my best new friend. Donnatella was always super serious. She was never mean, but she seemed far more mature than me and Seychelle. Like suppose I wanted to go drop eggs off the interior balconies in the Games center. Seychelle would be think that was hilarious, but if we invited Donnatella, she'd say all the problems with it and then we'd feel silly and not want to do it anymore. We didn't drop any eggs, though. We just went shopping.

I loved buying people presents. I loved getting to know someone well enough that I could pick out something they really wanted, something that made their face light up and that they never would have picked for themselves but were overjoyed to have someone else buy for them. I bought presents for all my Academy opponents. When I got picked, there were a lot of disappointed girls, but none of them flat-out hated me like most chosen volunteers. Or at least that I knew of, I guess.

"What are you going to get for Donnatella?" Seychelle asked.

"I think I know," I said. "She's really quiet and I can tell she doesn't like sharing her thoughts with people. I'm going to get her a little diary so she can write down her thoughts and look at them privately." I wanted to make sure it had nothing to do with babies. Having a baby didn't mean you weren't still your own person, and sometimes people forgot that.

"Are you getting Caio a mirror?" Seychelle snarked.

"Pretty close," I said. "Eyeliner."

"That… actually makes sense," Seychelle said. Caio was a _big manly Career, _but he unapologetically liked his appearance and enjoyed being handsome. He was probably just a little too nervous to buy makeup, but if someone else bought it, it wasn't sissy and he could wear it. It would just be black eyeliner anyway. It would make his foreign eyes look darker and tougher. He could wear it and tell people his eyes just naturally looked like that.

"I'm getting yours separate because it's extra special," I said. "And so you can't peek."

I'd already gotten Grande one as well, so that just left Atticus. To be honest, I hadn't put as much thought into his. Atticus was a bully and there wasn't much more to say about him. I was getting him what I knew he would have asked for if I'd talked to him: a knife. One of those fancy, over-the-top knives that looked wicked cool but would be preposterous to actually use in a fight. Probably a backhanded message there, but he wasn't smart enough to pick it up.

I had a great time picking everyone's presents, and it was even more fun because Seychelle was there. Shopping was a necessity when alone and an outing with a friend. When we were done we stopped at the food court and sat licking ice cream cones and chatting about little friend things. In the Arena, that time would be over, but it wasn't yet, and I would make the most of it.

* * *

Atticus Scipio- District Two male

I growled when the spear hit an inch to the left of the mannequin's heart. It was crooked, or the mannequin was off-center. I knew I was good at this. Good enough to take a slot. They didn't give one to me, so I took it, and the devil could take anyone who was in line ahead of me. Even where it hit, the spear would still kill. It would just take longer, not that it made a difference.

Out of the side of my eye, I watched Grande going through the holographic breaching simulation. Targets popped up in front of him erratically, some armed and some fleeing. He had to not only react quickly, but also assess which threats were largest and prioritize accordingly. He was dancing through it like a Peacekeeper, and that just made me angrier.

I threw the spear blindly, far over the head of the mannequin. _Huh, it might hit someone, _I thought, hoping it would. I craned my neck to see around the dummy. My spear flew toward Yttria, who had her back turned. I scrunched my mouth in disappointment when it whizzed past her so close it stirred her hair. She turned her head in time to see the spear thud into the wild game tracking instructor's leg.

Everything took off from there. The instructor was wailing on the ground holding his leg, Yttria was screaming for help, the first aid instructor was kneeling on the leg to cut off the blood while the tracking instructor tried to shove him off…

Then the Peacekeepers came. Two of them flanked me, grabbing my arms.

"Violence is not permitted," one said, which struck me as hilarious. _You can't fight in here! This is the War Room!_

"Hey, it was just a wild throw," I said. "See? Look at the mannequin," I tugged an arm free and pointed at the lousy shot. "Just a stupid botched throw."

* * *

Donnatella Bronos-Palassaqua- District Two female

_Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

I was huddled on a deserted balcony, angrily rubbing at my eyes. I couldn't be doing this. I had to pull myself together. It was shameful I'd ever fallen apart in the first place.

It just came out of nowhere. I was at the archery station, minding my own business, when there came a cry to wake the dead. I looked over and an instructor was lying on the ground, blood spurting from his leg. There was so much of it, and right away I knew he could die.

_He could die. _Just like that. Something you didn't even see coming. You could be walking through the Arena, looking for someone to hunt, and be dead before you even knew you'd been killed. My breath sped up uncontrollably, and I started to shake. _Stop it, _I told myself, but I couldn't. I just couldn't stop it. And so I ran.

_Die. Death. Die. _My body in a casket. Kallista holding out her arms to the cold me-thing in the box. A grave and a funeral and _nothing _after that.

I took deep breaths and hugged myself. I just needed a minute. Just put it aside and get back to work.

"Donna? You all right?"

It was Caio's voice. I knew it from his funny accent, like the foreign lover from a romance novel.

"I'm fine," I said tightly. I wiped my cheeks, though they were dry, and glared in an attempt to hide my the redness of my eyes.

"A lovely maiden like you should have nothing to cry about," Caio said, sitting next to me on the wrought iron bench.

Despite myself, I smiled. I'd feared contempt or false concern, but a frank attempt at flirting was perfectly Caio and an easy way to defuse the situation.

"Just worried about the Games, I guess," I confessed.

"I am too," he said. He saw my surprise and went on. "Life is too wonderful not to be protective of. I joined the Games to live it to the fullest, but I worry sometimes that by burning my flame so much stronger, I might be burning it faster."

"And it's not just my flame," I said. Caio nodded with understanding and genuine sympathy. His eyes crinkled, and I noticed he was wearing eyeliner. It suited him.

"That's something worth living for, even if life wasn't enough," Caio said. "I'll tell you this. If I don't win, I hope it's you. And if- when- the Careers split, I hope I'll have my back to you."

I wouldn't have believed him if he'd said it was a true alliance. It would be foolish to trust someone who volunteered to murder. But even Careers relate to each other, and connections are part of the human experience. Grande and Elissa were inseparable, and Elissa and Seychelle had taken to each other like girls at a sleepover. I didn't trust Caio with my life or with my trust, but I did believe he meant what he said. Caio trained by his instincts and passions. He depended on them and listened to them, and it seemed they included me. I admired his sincere and unashamed outlook. I would trust him to watch my back, because I knew he would kill me, but he would do it to my face.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Four male

The Training Room was closed, but the night was young. I made my way through the nightlife of the Games center, never drinking much, just enjoying the people and the atmosphere. At one bar, a sensually-lit, intimate space, I found something worth staying for.

"Excuse me, miss," I said to the black-haired, pink-eyed woman about my age. She sat alone at the bar, sipping something from a martini glass. "I couldn't help but notice you're alone."

The girl squealed as she recognized me. "Yes! Yes, I'm alone!" she said.

"But not anymore," I said. I sat down next to her and experimentally slid a hand around her waist. When she didn't refuse, I experimentally slid it further down.

"Dance?" I asked a moment later. We made our way to the small dance floor, where lights pulsated in time to electronic music. It is clear to anyone who has made love that dancing is an imitation of it. We swayed together, her chest and hips pressed against me. During a break in the songs, I brought my arm behind her head to support her as I kissed her deeply.

"Would you like to try something really crazy?" I asked with a smirk. She saw from the gleam in my eyes what kind of crazy I meant, even though I hadn't said the particulars.

I'd been eyeing the young man since before I started dancing with Vivica. He'd returned my glances and hadn't turned away when he saw me with her. He was dark-haired and light-eyed, shorter than me but not short. Vivica walked with me as I approached his table.

"You look like a man who enjoys variety," I said. There wasn't really a sixth sense for that sort of thing, but sometimes it takes one to know one.

The next morning, I ordered room service for the three of us. I had my Career responsibilities, and the firm knowledge that training was a necessity and was what would keep me alive, but it was barely morning. There was so much more to life than work.

I left as Vivica was fussing with her hair and Festus was politely stacking the dishes on our tray. I paused in the doorway.

"Look me up in a few months," I said. "I'll be there."

* * *

Seychelle Devries- District Four female

Rouge insisted that my hair had to go. For the parade it had been easier to wear a wig on such short notice, but now my time had come. The lavender streaks, calling back memories of the Capitol dye I'd found in an outlet on the seedy side of Four, were out.

I wasn't all that torn up about it, though. It sounded fun to have a change, and all the colors in the world were available here, plus a stylist who actually knew how to dye hair and didn't just smear the dye in while bent over a bathroom sink.

"Really it should be blue or green, since you're from Four," Rouge said. It was funny when I thought that I'd never seen a neon-haired Tribute in the Arena. I guessed we were lucky that no stylist had ever so valued form over function that they sent their Tribute in with bright pink hair to signal every Career in the Arena. Or maybe mentors had enough pull to head that off.

Blue or green were all right, but there was so much more to think about. If I chose a sensible color, I could keep it into the Arena. And there was more than just color to consider, too. Every possible kind of extension was also available. If I wanted, I could have hair to my feet. Of course, that would be impractical. I didn't intend to change my hairstyle at all, unless the stylists did some last-minute fussing. But it was fun to think about.

"What about this one?" I asked. I tapped the display and the hologram of me had platinum blonde hair. It was almost silvery, especially against the ethereal hologram. It made me look sharper all over. My eyes looked pointier. My smile looked meaner. My face looked more feral. I looked like someone I wouldn't want to fight. Maybe it was silly, like the eyespots on a butterfly, but I liked it.

"That one's spooky," Rouge said

"Please? I asked. "I think it looks really cool."

Perhaps because she was a softie, or perhaps because she could always redye it later if she didn't like it, Rouge gave in. A few hours later I had fine, almost glassy strands of silver-blonde hair like a wreath of icicles. I preened in front of the mirror, whipping ot back and forth and running my fingers through it. In a while, I was excited to show Elissa. But for now, and was just me and the new me, the belladonna in the mirror.


	23. Visenya and Linden

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

Most of the Tributes had been watching the other Tributes. We all wanted to see a weakness and keep our own weaknesses hidden. I'd been watching them, too, but I'd also been watching the Capitolites. The other Tributes would kill us, but the Capitolites could keep us alive. If I gave them what they wanted, they'd give me what I wanted.

It was clear what they wanted. The Capitolites loved a few things. They loved beautiful, confident Careers. They loved cute little kids. I was neither of those, but I had one other chance. The Capitol loved romances.

Over and over, as I watched the tapes of Games gone by, I saw it. Cormac and Siobhan. Bambi and Velvet. Vera and Frankie. Tillo and Felix. Mouse and Alice, who outlived fifty Tributes in an actual horrorshow of an Arena by being both romantic and cute little kids. If I just had someone I loved and we were two tragic star-crossed lovers, they'd send me more stuff than I knew what to do with.

It was with that in mind that I awkwardly approached Linden. He was sitting by himself in the cafeteria, arms bent over the table sullenly stirring a bowl of soup.

"Hey," I said. "How you doing?"

"How do you _think _I'm doing?" he asked. "I'm stuck here about to die for something that happened thirty years before I was born."

"Yeah, it sucks," I said. I sat next to him before he could tell me not to.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"This is really awkward, but I had this idea," I said. "You know how the Capitolites love romance?"

Linden stared at me for a second, then started laughing. "Why me?" he asked when he was done.

"Lots of reasons," I said, and I knew I was blushing.

"Sure," Linden said.

"It _is!" _I said. "Because you didn't have allies yet, because you're the right age, because you seem strong enough. And I _do _think you're not ugly, but that _wasn't _the big reason."

Linden smiled, and it was the first time I'd seen him actually look amused. "Why not," he said. "It's not like this can get much worse."

* * *

Linden Anderson- District Eight male

I held Visenya's hand in mine while my other hovered over her waist. The entire point of the "romance" was for people to see it. So we were in the art deco styled ballroom near the bottom floor of the Games center, mostly used for parade afterparties and Capitolite soirees for the mentors to try to get sponsors. There were a few people there with us. Most of them were old, since ballroom dancing hadn't been in vogue since before the Dark Days. But that was fine, since old people had money and soft hearts.

"It's pretty simple," I said as we moved through a basic box step. There were only three parts, so we had it down before the end of the first song.

"Where'd you learn to do this?" Visenya asked.

"My mom used to do it with me," I said. My chest tightened and I wished suddenly and painfully that I was a little kid again, my feet perched on my mother's as she hummed the tune from _Sleeping Beauty._

"Are you all right?" Visenya asked. Both of us were just in it for the sponsors, and I wasn't falling for Visenya, but she was a nice girl. A lot nicer than I was, honestly.

"They'll be fine," I said. It took a minute to find the heart to say what came next. "They're already trying for another."

"How do you know?" Visenya asked. It made me sadly happy how empathetic she looked.

"I'm the heir of a pretty big company," I said. "They've groomed me for years to take over. And now… they love me and believe in me, but I think they're getting ready."

"I'm scared," I said. Ever since I got on the train, I'd been angry. I'd forced myself to maintain that anger and focus on how unfair it was so I wouldn't have room to think about how scared I was. It was embarrassing to have it boil over now, in pubic, but sometimes emotions are like that. My eyes watered and when Visenya pulled me into a hug I held her tightly, my face to the side so she couldn't see.

"I'm scared too. Everyone is. Even the Careers. Because you're right. This isn't fair," Visenya said.

When we pulled apart, an old Capitolite couple was looking at us with sentimental smiles as they held hands. We hadn't meant it at all, but we'd just done the most convincing thing we could.


	24. Powerpuff Girls

Yttria Noxus- District Three female

When I got Reaped, I could cry and give up and wait to die, but that wasn't me. This wasn't a tragedy, it was a survival story. No matter what the Capitol did, my life was no one's but mine, and I was going to fight for it.

For my first day training, I learned to fight. I picked up a spear and a crossbow for the first time. I felt their weight in my hands and knew I'd picked them up with the intent to kill someone else before they could kill me. The spear was for the cavewoman in me and the crossbow for the scientist. The spear was easy to make and easy to learn. The crossbow was an invention of intelligence and physics, allowing me to propel projectiles with far more accuracy and strength than my human body on its own. I remembered everything from all the books my parents were always reading and writing. I was going to be the first of us to live it.

The second day, I put into action what I'd sown the day before. As I learned, I also searched. I looked at the other Tributes, analyzing which ones would complement and enhance my skills with their own. The Games were always the Careers' to win. Not this time. I wasn't going to be an easy target for them. What I couldn't fight on my own, I would do with numbers. That was how humans rose to the top. We made tools that made us better than what we were, and we worked in collective to achieve what we couldn't on our own.

I started with some conditions. First, I only wanted female allies. In my heart I knew that was unfair, and that it might even get me killed. I knew there was no real reason to exclude half the human race based on chromosomes, and it was kind of ironic I would do that when I considered myself such a feminist. But maybe it was the very irrationality that led me to my decision. So much of the Games would be instinct. In the split second where action would determine life or death, I would understand a fellow woman better than I would a man. We would act quicker and more cohesively, and that could save us.

Next, they needed skills that balanced mine. I knew weapons, chemistry, and some plants. I needed trackers, or shelter-makers, or medics. I needed sprinters and girls who could life things beyond me. And last of all, my secret, shameful condition. I didn't want anyone significantly stronger than I was. Alliances can run deep, but survival runs deeper.

At the end of the first day, I had my picks. At the start of the second, I came for them. I came for Paloma Bennett and Othella Fline.

* * *

Paloma Bennett- District Ten female

I sat alone at lunch, looking at the other Tributes. Most of them looked back at me, in between nervously watching still other Tributes. None of it still seemed real. It seemed faraway and blurry to me that I'd had a chance to let someone else die and I'd actually fought against it. It didn't make any sense that I was training to go into an Arena to fight other kids until all but one were dead. If I closed my eyes, I'd open them and I would be in bed after a nightmare.

When I next blinked, it wasn't my room that appeared. Instead I saw the girl from Three coming my way. When I first saw her before the parade, I thought her hair had gone white from fear, like something from a scary story. Now I could tell it was dyed, which probably told me something about what kind of person she was. She didn't care about people staring. She was bold and knew what she wanted. She had her own ideas and lived by them.

"Hey," she said, stopping before my table. She didn't have a tray, so she must have come just to talk to me. "I'm Yttria."

"I'm Paloma," I said. I wondered if she already knew that, since she was obviously gunning for me about something.

"I'm looking for allies," Yttria said. "I'd like to ask you." She had an air about her that it was more of informing me than asking me. It might have been arrogant, but it wasn't. It was just confident.

"Why me?" I asked.

"I want to make an alliance that can oppose the Careers. Not fight them, but make them not want to come for us. I want girls, and I want people that have skills that fit with mine. I know chemistry and weapons. You know shelters. We'll be stronger together," she said. Again, she said it like it was true, as true as something you'd read in a textbook.

I hadn't thought of allies. I hadn't thought much of anything. I'd been lost in a daze of knowing I was dying and reeling over and over at how quickly it had come. Yttria was as unwavering as I was lost. She had a steely look in her eyes and an unfeigned boldness in her bearing that let me know she was a leader. Whether she'd lead me to death or victory, I couldn't say, but I wagered she could.

"All right. I'm in."

* * *

Othella Fline- District Eight female

"You're a cute little thing," the Capitolite woman said, her old eyes crinkling as she carefully sat next to me. "Why so sad?" She dug in her purse and came out with a rainbow sweet. I took it politely.

"My imaginary friend is mean," I said. _And I'm in the hunger Games. _Really it was a silly question, but to be fair that wasn't why I was sad. I was sad about Hadley.

"You should tell her to stop or you won't play with her," the woman said.

"He never leaves me alone," I said.

The woman's face shifted. "Does he scare you?" she asked.

"No, he's not real, so he can't scare me. He just always says mean things," I said.

"I don't think he sounds like a friend at all. Does he tell you you should hurt yourself?" the woman asked.

"No, I don't think he ever did that. He tells me scary things, like that I'm going to die soon," I said. He wasn't really wrong about that.

"I think you should tell a doctor," the woman said. She seemed sad for me, which was very kind of her. "Sometimes some things get crossed in our head and things like that happen. They can help you not have to listen to him anymore."

"That's what Tillo said," I said. My mentor and I had been getting along pretty well until then. Tillo didn't like kids much and she was pretty prickly in general, but she put up with me since I wasn't loud or fussy. Then I mentioned Hadley and she started talking about doctors and setting up an appointment for me. I agreed to make her happy, but I didn't think anything would come of it.

"I think you should listen to Tillo, not the other guy," the woman said.

"Thanks. Maybe I will," I said.

When Yttria came to me asking about an alliance, I didn't mention Hadley. He was there in the background, making faces at her and telling me no one would want me as an ally and she would just betray me, but I didn't listen. I was going to listen to someone real this time.

* * *

**Bit of a mixed metaphor, since Yttria is both the fighter and the leader. She's more a Buttercup in my opinion. Othella is obviously Bubbles, so that's taken care of. Blossom is also the most level, so I guess that fits Paloma.**


	25. The Afterthoughts

**Coby and Adair were the two Tributes made very last-minute and in a huge rush so I could get started. It made sense to stick them together. Funny story, they actually have basically the exact same form (three sentences of a few traits, and it's the same traits) If either submitter doesn't want it I'll just never mention the alliance again and go on writing them separately, but I didn't think it would matter since they were so very sparsely made.**

**Also, some advertisements! Jezzebell would like to join the Powerpuff Girls (She's Bunny LOL) and Gavin would like to ask Porter to ally (he also was interested in Visenya and Jezzebell but they're looking at other alliances)  
**

* * *

Coby Keyes- District Three male

I messed up. I was like the kid you see on the news that came from a good family and had a scholarship and had all his future lined up, and then for no reason he stuck up a gas station and all at once he had a permanent record and his life was reset and that was something you never got back.

I was going into the Games. The Arena. That circle of platforms where twenty-four kids jumped off and in minutes a third of them were dead and by the next day half of them were dead. We'd all seen the footage. Kids screaming. Blood flowing so fast and hard you thought it was fake until you figured out that's just what death really looked like. Skin splitting and tearing as knives stuck into it instead of sliding into it. That was going to be me.

Like I said, there was no taking it back. So I better learn quick and take every bit of the shred of hope three days of training gave me.

The ropes course was fun. I probably should have been training based on practicality, but it _was _practical. I had tons of energy. If I could just climb really fast before the Careers caught me, I could keep scrambling around above their heads. As long as the Arena had something to climb. Just in case, I also worked with the sprinting coach.

It was on the ropes course that I met Adair. He was scurrying around looking like he was having as much fun as I was. We caught each others' eyes and of course right away it was a race. He was from Seven, so I pretty much won just by not being very far behind.

"Hey, you're Coby, right?" he asked as we lay panting on our stomachs at the top, the rope wearing into my skin. "The one that volunteered for the kid? That was cool."

"That was _dumb as a bag of hammers," _I said. I shrugged. "But too late now."

"I'm looking for allies. Are you?" Adair asked.

"If you can keep up," I said.

"If _you _can keep up," Adair said.

The ropes rocked underneath us as we shook on it.

* * *

Adair Oakson- District Seven male

I was seven years old when Loki won. I remembered it being a big deal, since Seven hadn't won in a long time. I didn't really remember anything about the actual Games. My parents didn't let me watch. We were all supposed to watch and all that, but little kids could get away with it.

The Arena was underwater. That I remembered, so it wasn't a surprise when the tape reached that point. It was almost funny watching how slow everyone moved and how confused and frustrated the Careers were. Only three people died. It looked super bloody. The blood fanned out in the water like all the blood in their bodies was clouding out. But that was just the water. Really, they were just dead, not any more dead that normal. I was looking at dead kids. But it didn't look real.

The door creaked behind me. I knew it had to be Loki, since Jezzebell walked heavier than he did. He came up behind me and leaned over the couch to watch. I didn't say anything until I saw him swim up to a dead girl and take out his knife. I'd heard that part of the story, but it was one thing to hear about and one thing to see him scrape the top of her head off and wear it like a hat.

I looked back at him with wide eyes. He looked away, down at the ground. His throat twitched. I looked back at the screen to see what would happen next.

I at Loki again when he killed Diamonique. He still hadn't made a sound. I could see the screen reflected in his eyes and the tears on his face.

"Look at her," he said. "She was so young."

I didn't know what to say. To me, Diamonique looked old. She was older than me, though not as old as Loki, and it unsettled me to think about why that was.

"I remember when you won," I said. Anything to change the subject. Loki flinched and looked scared of me.

"There were all sorts of parades and parties, and presents came down from the sky. I got one of them and it had a toy plane in it. It was so cool. I still have it. It was the best toy I ever got."

Loki smiled, even though he was still crying. "You liked it?" he asked.

"Yeah! The day you won was the best day ever!"


	26. Some Broads

**But not all the broads. And also Argent's not a broad.**

* * *

Argent Ore- District Twelve male

It was awkward meeting my mentor. Nubu won forever ago, but since he was our only Victor, everyone in Twelve knew about him. We saw how he stayed strong through his whole Games and stuck with his allies and stayed with Alinta right until the end. I felt even more like nothing compared to him.

"So kid, why'd you volunteer?" he asked. There was an edge to his voice and a standoffishness to his face. He thought I wanted to fight and kill, I realized with horror.

"So someone else wouldn't die," I said.

Nubu's face softened, and his voice went from cold to mournful. "But now you'll die."

"That's no big deal," I said.

"How can that not be a big deal?" Nubu asked, like he knew the answer but was too repulsed to say it.

"Because I'm not really anything. I'm kind of worthless," I said.

Nubu's face broke. He looked at me with the pain I'd been feeling for so long but never let out. I never imagined someone could feel that on my behalf.

"You're priceless," he said. He almost whispered the first word, and his voice caught on the last one. His fingers clenched the edge of the table we sat at with more ferocity than I'd ever seen from him.

"I never did anything special," I said.

"You don't have to," Nubu said. "You're priceless just because you are."

"You really think so?" I asked. It didn't make sense to me. Why would Nubu Sanders, Twelve's first Victor, think anything at all about me, much less that I was special? Why would he cry over something as insignificant as me?

"Yes," Nubu said immediately. "You're valuable just for being alive, and you're a hero for wanting to save someone else. You look at me like I'm a big shot, but I just got Reaped. I didn't volunteer. And I won. That means I didn't let someone else live, like you did."

_Wow. Is it really like that? _Nubu probably thought that about everyone. He was just that sort of guy. Maybe he was right, or maybe he was just a nice person. I was pretty sure I wasn't all he thought I was, but having someone as important as Nubu think so did make me feel a little accomplished. I didn't think I was worth much, but Nubu Sanders did.

* * *

Jezzebell Fern- District Seven female

As soon as I heard about Yttria, Paloma, and Othella, I marched right up to give them a piece of my mind.

"Hey!" I said, leveling a finger at the three of them sitting at a cafeteria table. "I hear you're making a strong female alliance!"

"Uh… yeah," Paloma said, hesitating between the first and second words in case she had to make a retreat.

"That makes me pretty _mad!" _I said.

"Why?" Yttria asked. She and Paloma wordlessly scooted closer to Othella, ready to shield her.

"Because you didn't invite me!" I said.

Paloma and Othella glanced at each other, then looked at Yttria.

"I didn't think you'd be interested," Yttria said. She set her hamburger down on her plate like she was so surprised she'd forgotten she was eating.

"Why not?" I asked.

"You just seemed so strong," Yttria said. "I thought you wouldn't want allies tying you down."

"That makes some sense, but you've left out a few things," I said. I ticked them off on my fingers. "One. Fights are more fun with multiple people. 2. I'm very fond of women and like to surround myself with strong specimens. 3. I'm an extrovert. What can I say? And 4. I'm kind of crazy."

"Well that sounds pretty good," Othella said. The three of them shared some glances and declined to make a little pow-wow.

"Would you like to ally with us?" Paloma asked.

"Well, I'm _so _glad you asked!"

* * *

Wisteria Rose- District Eleven female

That wasn't a baby. It was just a doll.

I knew the bundle I held in my arms was a baby. Eight hours after she was born, I finally got to hold her. She came early, and they wanted to check that everything was in place. They said everything was, but I couldn't believe them. This couldn't be my daughter. The baby was… wrong. When you have a baby, you're supposed to feel it come to rest in your arms and have this life-changing rush of the most amazing love you've never imagined. I looked down at the baby and felt nothing. It might as well have been a swaddled potato.

"What's the name, sweetie?" a nurse asked. His hand was poised over a tablet.

"What?" I asked. I'd barely heard him. "Oh. Name." I wished he'd leave me alone. I just gave birth and he kept pestering me. All the nurses and doctors kept pestering me- cooing over the baby, trying to pat me reassuringly, asking me little questions about things that could wait. I went to blurt out a name to get him to leave, but my mind went blank.

The only name that came to mind was my mothers. _Heather, _I almost said. _No. I shouldn't give her the same name as my mother. What was her middle name? _I fished around in my head.

"Marie," I said. The nurse squealed and wrote the name down.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"Yes. Can you take her?" I asked, shoving the baby at him. "I want to take a nap."

The nurse chattered something about mothers and needing rest as he took Marie and finally left.

Everything in the room kept me from falling asleep. The walls were a sickening baby blue color, painted by Capitolites who thought they were so clever to paint a maternity room baby blue. The machines hummed and made whining hisses that made it impossible to sleep. There was a sterile scent that mingled with the last bits of nauseating blood and fluid. I was sore in places I shouldn't be sore.

_What's wrong with me? _I thought. _Why don't I like the baby? _My _baby. _Marie. _Her name is Marie. Why is she so ugly? Is it because she's premature? She'll grow out of it. What kind of mother am I that I wish she could stay in a preemie incubator until she's cute?_

_I don't want to deal with this. I don't want to deal with her. I'm tired, and everything is going wrong, and I want to just go to sleep and not wake up for a long time. Maybe things will be right when I wake up._


	27. Three's Company

Klaus Riviera- District Five male

Most Tributes thought of things like building fires and shelters, but the most difficult part of wilderness survival was just knowing where you were and where you were going. You couldn't purify water if you couldn't find it because you didn't even know you were walking around in circles. That's what led me to the navigation station. I was going to get to what I needed, and before the Careers got there.

"All you need to find your direction is a stick," the instructor said. Since we were inside, he pressed a button and a holographic sun appeared. "You know anything about geometry?"

"Oh yes, I was really good at that," I said. I wasn't good at everything, but I liked to think I was pretty smart. I could prove it, too, I thought. I got good grades and never had much trouble in school. That was going to be my biggest weapon.

"Put the stick in the ground and mark its shadow," he said, demonstrating in a sandbox. "Wait a few minutes and mark again. Do this near noon, when the sun is high. Keep marking until you have an arc where the shadow gets to its shortest point and then starts to get longer. Where do you think north is?"

Truth be told, I didn't know. _We never learned that in geometry, _I thought a little peevishly. I couldn't be expected to know. But what I didn't have in book learning I'd have to make up for with cleverness. Since he was talking about an arc, it had to be on there somewhere. The obvious answer was the only unreflected point.

"The shortest point?" I asked.

"Right on. Put your back to the stick and you're looking north. At least, pretty close to north," the instructor said.

I was glad I knew now, but more glad that I got it right. The instructor's whole job was navigation, and I was keeping up with him. Sure, he knew a lot more, but I was learning quickly. That would be all the difference in the Arena. The Careers had their whole life to get ready. Anyone who wanted to win had to be smart enough to catch up after all that head start. It was a long shot to think it would be me, but so far I was doing all right.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

"_Hey, Tapey. I know that's a dumb name for a tape recorder, but I used up all my creativity selling stuff, okay? So. I'm going into the Hunger Games. They let me keep this as a token, provided I don't try to take it apart. I just have a few things to say for myself. Not for anyone else, like what I say all the rest of the time. Just for me."_

The mentor luncheons and events were generally for mentors to mingle with sponsors and secure donations. I finagled my way into mine by convincing Sky that I could attract sponsors myself. How did I do that? By convincing her I could convince them, and thus convincing her I was convincing by… convincing her. It was kind of meta. So I sat at a fancy table with well-dressed Capitolites, spinning one story after another about how I was the perfect sponsors, tailoring each iteration to the person I was talking to at that moment.

"_I just want do something important. That's silly, I know. I have lots of money for a Five girl and I can sell people anything. But that's not important. Important would be mayor of Five or inventor of perpetual motion, or I guess being a Victor. I guess to me, important things mean something I can't talk my way into. Something I actually _did."

The gray-haired woman eyed me from across the table. I could see it in how she looked at me. She loved children. She was one of the few old enough to be mature before technology got to where pretty much anyone could have a kid. She was here to sponsor someone she could nurture and love and pretend was her very own.

"You look like my grandmother," I said to her.

"_I'd do anything to get there. I just want to feel good about myself and know I actually accomplished something. Even if it didn't really mean anything, I think I'd do anything for that feeling. I'd pretend, even though that's all I've done all my life. Just let me find something worthwhile. Something that makes it all mean something."_

"It's such a great opportunity," I said to the man who kept talking about how Tributes were "Panem's future". "I could do so much as a Victor. So many of us have great ideas, and we just need a champion to have one sliver of faith in us."

"_Something real! Something actually real! Not stories and fakery and putting lipstick on a pig. I want an actual pig! I mean… You know what I mean. That's irony or something. The only thing that matters, and I don't know how to say it."_

* * *

Enzo Ranger- District Six male

Camouflage and traps. They went together, and they were both things I had experience with. Camouflage so people wouldn't see my prank coming, and traps as the actual prank. I was already halfway there.

I rubbed moss on the rope until it was green and blotchy like a vine. No one would think twice, as long as the Arena was outside. If it was inside, I'd either have to make it look like it belonged or hide it in shadow. I tied the knots that pulled tighter the more you fiddled with them and the more weight was on them. I laid it out in the simple but tricky folds that balanced it on itself and tied it all together.

"It's ready!" I called to the attendant. She gamely walked across the ring marked out on the floor. She could see the trap, since she had helped me make it, but she pretended she couldn't. She stepped into the loop of rope held up by some sticks. The twigs broke under her weight, springing the trap. The rope slid off a coil of wire, letting it snap back tight, yanking the rope around her ankle. She twisted to land on her butt as it pulled her off her feet. She slid ten feet or so across the floor, coming to rest by the table leg we'd secured the rope to. If I wanted, I could use a tree in the Arena. Then she'd dangle from it like a fruit.

"Yeah!" I cheered. I ran over and stood triumphantly over my catch. I could already imagine the blustering Careers coming by and getting tangled up before they knew what hit them.

"Good job, kid," she said.

I preened over her, proud I'd made it work. Then something came to mind that ruined it entirely. In the Arena, I wouldn't be high-fiving my smiling catch. I'd be bending down to slit the throat of the child who'd wandered into my trap. This wasn't a prank. In a good prank, everyone laughs. No one would be laughing then.


	28. Erryone Else

**Randy's been a Victor for ONE YEAR and I already forgot to add him.**

**I got impatient and just did everyone left all at once.**

* * *

Randy Mills- District Nine mentor

_Oh, dear. Oh, dear, Laurel definitely should have won. She's so smart. She'd have smart stuff to say to Visenya and Porter. What am I gonna say, "Hey, you two. If you're gonna do a cat eye, liquid liner is best, but beginners should use a solid pencil?"_

"Hey. I guess I should give you some advice. So… If you're gonna do a cat eye…"

* * *

Gasoly Wayfarer- District Six female

The little bug hopped around in the cage. It wasn't the main reason for the cage. Really the cage was for a big hairy tarantula. But he was hiding inside his little hollow log. That was disappointing, but the cage was magical without him anyway. I'd never seen a real grasshopper before. There was hardly any grass in Six, and the bits we had were mostly mowed down super short. I'd never seen the cute little bug with his kinky legs and the little bits of spit at his mouth, like the old people I'd sometimes seen chewing tobacco. He was the cutest, most fragile little amazing thing.

"You can eat that one," Arisia, the edible insects instructor said. Since literally no one ever went to her station ever, I'd managed to convince her to take me to the little tiny zoo in the Games building. They called it a "menazree" or something fancy, but it was just a tiny zoo. It had a capuchin monkey and a white alligator and a whole bunch of bugs, so it was _educational _and she was just doing her job.

I imagined picking the grasshopper up and eating it. I screwed up my face at the thought of the red goop squirting out of its mouth and getting on my lips when I bit down.

It turned out I could eat most bugs. The instructor said pretty much anything with six legs or fewer went. Most of the ones with more legs than that were also edible, but there were enough exceptions to mention them. I already knew about the monarch butterflies, since they were the most famous kind of butterfly. There were some others, like centipedes and puss caterpillars. Others, like this one millipede we found, could cause allergic reactions. I didn't know if I was allergic or not, but it was probably smart to eat some other bug.

"If you're _really _lucky, the Arena will have honeypot ants," Arisia said. Her eyes lit up and she got the big smile she got when she talked about bugs. "They collect food in their abdomens and swell up so big you can bite their butts off and eat them like juicy berries."

Even though I knew it was probably a little silly to spend time on bugs when I should have been spending it on orientation and stuff like that, I was glad I met Arisia and went to the zoo with her. She was just like me.

"If I win, I want to see if I can be an insects instructor like you," I said, looking up at her.

Arisia looked at me like when you tell your dad you love him out of nowhere and it's like he was afraid you might not have until you said it. "I hope you do win, dear," she said. She pulled out a handkerchief and turned to cough into it.

* * *

Porter Crane- District Nine male

The training room was really nice and all, but it wasn't ideal. I couldn't do my thing when everyone else was there staring at me. Every one of the other Tributes thought they were being sneaky trying to spy on everyone else and see their weaknesses. All they saw was other Tributes looking at them trying to see _their _weaknesses. And truth be told, I had more than enough weaknesses for them to see, especially if I was trying my hardest.

We still had twenty minutes of training time left when I snuck out. I wandered back to the Nine lounge for a few minutes to sit around by myself before I'd have to sit around with Visenya and Randy.

I looked around, just in case anyone might have shown up in the three seconds since I walked in, then jumped over the couch from behind and landed splayed across it. I lay like that for a minute, head resting on the ground and legs hooked over the back of the couch. Then it started to occur to me that I could wreak a lot of havoc in twenty minutes.

_Floor is lava, ha ha, _I thought as I rearranged the room into my own impromptu obstacle course. Of course in the Arena, the floor might actually be lava. I jumped over the couch and landed on a lampstand, hooking around it like a fireman's pole and clambering across the room on cushions and furniture until I reached the coffee table. That gave me room to take a running leap and grab onto the chandelier. There was a wonderful moment where all my childhood Tarzan dreams came true. Then there was an equally childlike moment of panic as the chandelier arm dropped an inch and tilted as one of the fasteners failed under my weight. I let go and dropped just as the arm snapped off and fell onto the coffee table, shattering the glass.

_I don't think I can fix that, _I thought, staring at the carnage. Just then, the door opened, and Randy walked in.

"Hey," I said. I pointed at the table. "Someone broke that."

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

The Games center didn't exactly have anything dedicated to sports history, but it did have a sports bar. The "sports bar" in Ten consisted of a rickety shack whose owner had an ancient television set that could pick up Capitol transmissions if they weren't encrypted. We would gather around and watch the grainy games on its cracked screen.

The Capitol bar was a little different. The middle of the room was a fenced-off area where a real-time scale model holographic projection followed two Capitol teams facing off. It was a little funny, since it looked like a bunch of munchkins, but it was also super cool. It was the closest I could possibly get to seeing a live game.

I was of age and all, but I didn't think this was a good time to start drinking. I just got soda and peanuts and a hot dog like you're supposed to get at a baseball game. I snuck Bambi's poodle Labyrinth pieces of hot dog under the table.

At a break between innings, I got up to go to the bathroom. A Capitolite woman moved into my way and leaned against a pillar, blocking me.

"Hey. You look like you might be worth sponsoring," she said. She looked me over in the way I usually tried to ignore. I had some muscles from baseball and just general Ten life, and I knew some people thought of me that way. People thought it was an ego boost, but it could also be gross. If I didn't ask for it, that sort of thing was just unpleasant. Then she reached behind me and grabbed my backside.

I stiffened. My first impulse was to shove her hand away, but I couldn't do that. Then I wanted to say something witty and get her to laugh and go away wanting to sponsor me even more, but I couldn't think of anything. I felt like I couldn't say anything at all. In the end I just smiled and thanked her and fled to the bathroom.

I wiped the seat of my pants off before I sat back down with Bambi. _Just wipe her off and move on, _I thought. She'd never know how powerful she was or how long it would stick with me, and that made it even worse. But I handled it as best as I could, and if she sent stuff I'd make good use of it despite her not good at all motivation. But most of all, I wouldn't dwell on it. I shoved her from my mind and slowly got my thoughts back on a nice game of baseball.

* * *

Apollo Courfeyrac- District Eleven male

I felt like I'd been abducted by aliens and brought to another planet. Everything here was so different I could not imagine it was the same world. Things in Eleven ran on manpower and coal. Things here ran on some magical energy that seemed threaded into the very air. It was one of the science fiction books I saw in our excuse for a library, with needle-nosed spaceships and guns that shot multicolored rays.

Even the people were different. They were another species, as different from me as I was from a caveman. None of them had any scars or ugly spots. They had shiny, glittery hair and painted skin and parts that were changed so they looked more like drawings than people. People in the Capitol could be anything they wanted, and the Capitol had everything they could want.

The Games building looked like it could start up and fly away. It was made of some weird sleek white material with no cracks like the cinder-block building in Eleven. The floor was made of tiles I could see through a little bit, so I could see people moving around in the floors underneath me. And there were more and more and more floors. The tallest building back home was the silo in the center of town. The Games center was four times as tall. It went on forever, all the way into space.

I tried to visit every inch of the Games building. I saw things I never would have imagined, like a room where you could chase other kids around with laser guns, or a cook taking the cover off a dish and fog pouring out. Just being in the building was like a crazy dream, and every second I went further reminded me of how spectacular it all was.

The Capitol had so much more than Eleven I couldn't even wrap my head around it. I wished they'd take just a little and give it to us. If they took just one percent of the Capitol and spread it out between the Districts, everyone in Panem could be rich. I didn't understand why they had to keep all of it for themselves. The people here didn't seem that mean or greedy. They all smiled at me and were always friendly. They didn't seem to have any cares in the world. If I could live here the rest of my life like they did, I probably wouldn't either. But I only got a few days. I only had a few more days, and then the future would be over and it would be back to dirt and trees, and I'd have even less than I started with.

* * *

Sundew Keope- District Twelve female

Strong displays of emotion were never my thing. I felt feelings the same as anyone else, but they didn't seem to show on my face that much. Even so, my face absolutely lit up the first time I tried Capitol soda. It was like electricity and a thunderstorm in a glass. It was like fruit boiled down until all the water was gone and it was just _FRUIT _like a punch in the face, and it slid across your tongue the whole way and tingled all down your throat. If the Capitol would just share that with the Districts, they could stave off rebellion for decades.

A bottle of soda rested on the ground next to me as I knelt by the solar still I'd constructed with the help of the water-finding instructor, Thalassa. She was no-nonsense and had launched right into the lesson without even asking my name. I only knew hers because of the tag on her chest. I liked how I didn't have to pretend to make small talk or be interested in her.

"So that's why there's usually a sheet of plastic in the Bloodbath," she said. "Most Tributes ignore it and everyone watching at home wonders why it's even there. That's why."

Perfect. No one would want a stupid piece of plastic. I could grab that at the Bloodbath and not be in danger, as long as it was close to me and not farther inside the ring of platforms.

So far, I was going it alone. I'd thought about allies and even made a list in my head and almost went to talk to a few of them, but it hadn't happened. In my heart, I knew they wouldn't be allies. They would be assets. I'd use them for what they could do for me and when the time came, I knew I would try to kill them. I couldn't make myself feel guilty about it, but I knew it was wrong. I made sure I wouldn't reach the end of that path by never starting it in the first place. There was only one Victor. Unlike some Tributes, I could never make myself lose sight of that.

It was funny that the worst parts of myself were what gave me the best chance of winning. I wasn't going to be moved by some other Tribute, or hesitate about crossing lines. Victors won because they put themselves first. That was always something that came easy to me.


	29. Private Session Report

ATTN: HEAD GAMEMAKER TITIAN QIN

PRIVATE SESSIONS REPORT

THEODORA HARP and Harlequin Marceau

* * *

DISTRICT ONE MALE: GRANDE ST. LEGER

ASSESSMENT: Grande focused on his unarmed combat skills. He is skilled in various weapons and no doubt knew that we were aware of that, so he demonstrated the unarmed combat skills he learned in the Capitol from his mentor Ravi Waterford. He showed considerable skills considering the short time he had to train.

STRENGTHS: Psychological knowledge, weapons, strength, career alliance

WEAKNESSES: Mental state, close relationship to District partner

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Grande suffers from Generalized Anxiety Disorder. It has been kept controlled by a regimen of SSRIs. With his physician's assistance he tapered off the medication before the Games. He has not yet shown ill effects.

ODDS: 16:1 SCORE: 10

NOTES: But why would you volunteer if you have anxiety? Like wut?

* * *

DISTRICT ONE FEMALE: ELISSA DE ANGELO

SKILLS ASSESSED: Elissa struggled to settle on a skill to show. She decided on throwing knives and performed as expected. Near the end of the session she was distracted by the chemistry table and remained there until time ran out.

STRENGTHS: Alliance, weaponry, obfuscating ditziness

WEAKNESSES: Close relationship to District partner, easily distracted, good-natured

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Elissa is part of a District One cult that has not proven dangerous and has been tolerated. Our psychologist also suspects ADHD.

ODDS: 18:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: One's been sending the weird ones lately.

* * *

DISTRICT TWO MALE: ATTICUS SCIPIO

SKILLS ASSESSED: Atticus staged a massacre. Like the old movies Titian loves, he grabbed a machete and started making it rain stuffing. He threw the last one at the glass so hard the plastic frame cracked it.

STRENGTHS: Killing stuff

WEAKNESSES: Aggression, single-mindedness, likely to be targeted by fellow Careers, unlikability

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Family history of psychopathy plus unhealthy coping skills and aggression learned from abusive father

ODDS: 15:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Two points were deducted for cracking our nice glass.

* * *

DISTRICT TWO FEMALE: DONNATELLA BRONOS-PALASSAQUA

SKILLS ASSESSED: Donnatella fired a dozen arrows, hitting two bullseyes. She seemed disappointed in herself.

STRENGTHS: Maturity, perspective, weapons, allies

WEAKNESSES: Survival skills, general Career weaknesses

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 15:1 SCORE: 9

NOTES: But you have a baby! _Yeah that would drive me to volunteer._

* * *

DISTRICT THREE MALE: COBALT KEYES

SKILLS ASSESSED: Cobalt ran through the ropes course. He certainly has a lot of energy. And for someone who's not from Seven, he can climb.

STRENGTHS: Climbing, energy, alliance

WEAKNESSES: Comes from an urban District, fighting skills

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 24:1 SCORE: 6

NOTES: Wow that's so weird he's probably never seen a real tree.

* * *

DISTRICT THREE FEMALE: YTTRIA NOXUS

SKILLS ASSESSED: Yttria focused on the spear and crossbow. The spear's basically just a stick so you can't go wrong. With the crossbow she showed understanding of the basic concepts. She also dabbled in survival skills. As she worked, so informed us of her allies and their balancing skills.

STRENGTHS: strategy, organization, curated alliance, crossbow

WEAKNESSES: Small, might be targeted

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 18:1 SCORE: 7

NOTES: Ooh an all-around contender.

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR MALE: CAIO SAGRES

SKILLS ASSESSED: Caio doesn't fight so much as parade. He used his long pointy pole thing really well, but he also liked to make it look good. He was all over the place! It was like one of those fancy foreign dances where they jump super high and do flips and stuff

STRENGTHS: Agility, flair, weapons, alliance

WEAKNESSES: Probably going to get targeted. I'd say overconfident but I think he IS that good

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 12:1 SCORE: 9

NOTES: This is the kind of Victor Panem needs. He's hot, and handsome, and also attractive. His talent can be making posing for novel covers.

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR FEMALE: SEYCHELLE DEVRIES

SKILLS ASSESSED: Seychelle used this weird cool-looking moon sword. She cut the heads off a bunch of dummies. I understand that's usually fatal, except Titian said Scottish people can live through it. She also did some first aid, wrapping one of the slain dummy's legs.

STRENGTHS: Weapons, first aid, not overconfident

WEAKNESSES: Kinda spacey, young for a Career

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: According to our psychologist, Seychelle is hella weird.

ODDS: 18:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Did she say she was "Moon Knight"?

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE MALE: KLAUS RIVIERA

SKILLS ASSESSED: Klaus did some voodoo with a stick and told us which way north is. We checked and he was right. Weird.

STRENGTHS: voodoo, navigation

WEAKNESSES: Loner, weapons skills, size

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Expected trauma from witnessing mother burning to death. Family history of psychosis that seems to have missed him.

ODDS: 24:1 SCORE: 6

NOTES: Dang, all those people that got lost in the woods and died and they just needed a stick.

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE FEMALE: MEENAH TURBINE

SKILLS ASSESSED: Well, she wasn't wrong. Meenah walked in and announced she was going to do something no one expected. She then stripped to her birthday suit. We were very intrigued at what use that skill had in the Arena, but then she went to the tracking station and no joke sewed herself an outfit out of random pelts, narrating the process for tanning and curing raw hides.

STRENGTHS: Impossible to predict, showmanship, charisma

WEAKNESSES: Prudes

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 20:1 SCORE: 7

NOTES: U sell fridges to Eskimos or what?

* * *

DISTRICT SIX MALE: ENZO RANGER

SKILLS ASSESSED: Enzo constructed a figure-4 snare competently. He regarded it with strange sadness after he was done. With less than a minute left, he halfheartedly tried some knife fighting.

STRENGTHS: Speed, traps, easy to overlook

WEAKNESSES: Size, ferocity, forgettability.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 26:1 SCORE: 6

NOTES: I don't think you'll play the Game until it's too late.

* * *

DISTRICT SIX FEMALE: GASOLY WAYFARER

SKILLS ASSESSED: Gasoly engaged in unarmed combat with a medium-low sparring partner. She utilized a simple, plodding approach, using her weight to her advantage in standby moves. At the end of the session she was panting with exertion.

STRENGTHS: Not threatening, powerful build

WEAKNESSES: Speed, endurance, health

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 30:1 SCORE: 5

NOTES: Oink.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN MALE: ADAIR OAKSON

SKILLS ASSESSED: Adair went through the ropes course. He's from Seven and performed as expected. He was confident enough at the great height to be daring and visibly enjoying himself. Climbing is not only a skill but his nature.

SKILLS: Climbing, dexterity, agility

WEAKNESSES: Weapons, age

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 24:1 SCORE: 6

NOTES: We have a lot of really average Tributes this year.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN FEMALE: JEZZEBELL FERN

SKILLS ASSESSED: Before beginning her throwing dart demonstration, Jezzebell requested "a shot of the stuff we're having". Maenad, being a born partier and also born breaker of rules, gave her one as the rest of us tried to stop her. Jezzebell shot the shot and then shot the darts, hitting three bullseyes.

SKILLS: Throwing darts, alcohol tolerance, strong alliance

WEAKNESSES: Judgement

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 18:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Never mind about the average thing.

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT MALE: LINDEN ANDERSON

SKILLS ASSESSED: Linden showed both skills necessary to win the Games: intelligence and brutality. He selected a club as his weapon. Clubs are both found everywhere and completely intuitive. He smashed a bunch of mannequins. Not fancy, but they were definitely dead.

STRENGTHS: Cunning, willingness to kill, opportunistic "romance". Linden also has the final element: luck. He comes from a rich family that will be able to provide sponsor items.

WEAKNESSES: May be targeted by Careers, lack of outdoor experience

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 17:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Probably the non-Career favorite. Him or Jezzebell.

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE: OTHELLA FLINE

SKILLS ASSESSED: Othella made a wide variety of traps. She focused on that one skill because of the balanced nature of her alliance. Othella was difficult to judge because her skill was muddied by other factors such as her mental state.

STRENGTHS: Traps, adaptability, strong alliance

WEAKNESSES: Size, age, childlike nature, possible mental fragility.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Our psychologist states that Paloma's imaginary friend is merely that and not any sort of psychosis or schizoid disorder. At worst it is a non-optimal coping mechanism.

ODDS: 36:1 SCORE: 6 (1 point deducted for mental concerns)

NOTES: Yeah I mean the skills are a six but the kid's just a little kid?

* * *

DISTRICT NINE MALE: PORTER CRANE

SKILLS ASSESSED: Most of the session was spent running. Porter is both a fast sprinter and did not tire through the entire session. At the end he added a few throwing knives. He hit 60% of the targets.

STRENGTHS: Speed, attempt at weapons

WEAKNESSES: Strength, general mediocrity

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 30:1 SCORE: 5

NOTES: The Grim Reaper can run a long time.

* * *

DISTRICT NINE FEMALE: VISENYA LLOYD

SKILLS ASSESSED: Visenya obviously didn't know what to do. It was classic stage fright and test anxiety. She pointed out a few edible plants, clearly seeing how tepid she was being.

STRENGTHS: Plants, opportunistic romance with Linden

WEAKNESSES: Weapons, strength, confidence, general ability

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 34:1 (boosted for likely sponsor gifts) SCORE: 3

NOTES: Oof. Well, sometimes the low-scoring ones come out of nowhere.

* * *

DISTRICT TEN MALE: GAVIN BOOTH

SKILLS ASSESSED: Our first impression of Gavin was that he is a very athletic and comely young man. Well, everyone but Kallipygos, who is the straightest thing since geometric lines and has no sense of aesthetics. Gavin used this physique to his advantage in spears and unarmed combat. He played baseball in Ten and the skills transferred neatly to the weapon and adequately to the sparring.

STRENGTHS: Spears, athleticism, looks

WEAKNESSES: I dunno, probably curveballs

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 19:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: Batter up.

* * *

DISTRICT TEN FEMALE: PALOMA BENNETT

SKILLS ASSESSED: Paloma blended multiple skills into one. She first constructed a shelter, then built a fire to set it ablaze, then quenched the fire. She had just enough time at the end for some spear throwing.

STRENGTHS: Versatility, strong alliance, survival skills

WEAKNESSES: Her strong alliance may be targeted

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 20:1 SCORE: 8

NOTES: We got an all-around contender. Ten hasn't had one in a long while.

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE: APOLLO COURFEYRAC

SKILLS ASSESSED: I mean, he's twelve. He ran around the agility course, where the obstacles are so big he can slip right through them, and creatively hid among the displays to show stealth.

STRENGTH: Fits in small spaces, not a threat, maneuverable

WEAKNESSES: Size, age, strength, easy target

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 38:1 SCORE: 5

NOTES: There's always one.

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN FEMALE: WISTERIA ROSE

SKILLS ASSESSED: I can't even write this with a straight face. She just had a _whole baby. _Yeah she's gonna suck! Wisteria pretty much got no training time. As a result she was unable to show plants or snares skills. She stood nearly dazed in the training room, moving like she was wading through water and was lost.

STRENGTHS: Pushed a premature baby out of her teenage body

WEAKNESSES: Training time, mental state, overwhelming disadvantages. Anemia, vitamin deficiencies, blood pressure instability, and incompletely healed wounds from labor.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Though it's too short a period to make a full diagnosis, our psychologist reports symptoms of postpartum depression. Because the rest of the problems weren't enough.

ODDS: 80:1 SCORE: 2

NOTES: It is a wonderful time to be alive and long live Panem and President Snow.

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE MALE: ARGENT ORE

SKILLS ASSESSED: Argent identified five edible plants from forest biomes. He was unconfident and often looked up at us with trepidation. When he saw he had a few minutes left, he began to build a fire, building a good foundation before time ran out.

STRENGTHS: Plants, fire-making

WEAKNESSES: Confidence, weapons, size

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 35:1 SCORE: 5

NOTES: Cheer up, dude. You did fine.

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE FEMALE: SUNDEW KEOPE

SKILLS ASSESSED: Sundew constructed two simple traps. They did not take much time, and she spent the rest of her session going over ways to find water in an Arena. Nothing spectacular, but some good basic skills.

STRENGTHS: Water-finding, traps

WEAKNESSES: Diverse skills, size, strength

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Nothing

ODDS: 30:1 SCORE: 5

NOTES: You know I always hope Twelve will have a good one and they never do.

* * *

SIGNED, THEODORA HARP


	30. Interviews

Caesar Flickerman- Interviewer

In all my years of interviewing, I should have known nothing was certain, but I was still surprised when I met Grande. The hesitant movements, the way he didn't settle all his weight into the chair, the way he leaned just a little forward like he was ready to jump up and fight the enemy that didn't exist… Grande had anxiety. I saw that plenty, but never in Careers. Well, you see something new every day.

"How has the Capitol been treating you?" I lobbed an easy question at him.

He cleared his throat quietly to buy time to refine an answer. "It's very nice here. There are lots of friendly people and the building is very pretty." At the end of the interview, he walked offstage grimacing at himself. Careers. They're either confident no matter how they perform, or they're always certain it's not good enough.

Elissa came out struggling under the weight of nearly ankle-length hair extensions braided and entwined with gems. We had a chuckle about that, and then another chuckle about an amusingly self-deprecating story she told about Careers trying to learn survival skills and almost burning the Academy down after a fire-making lesson.

"But you know, the best defense is a good offense!" she added brightly.

Atticus had no time for fripperies. "Soon enough it will be time for the Arena," he said. "That's when you'll see what I can do. I'm not here to make friends."

Donnatella looked surprisingly demure in a low-necked green lace gown. We talked about other things, but of course we couldn't leave out the elephant in the room.

"Being Kallista's mother gave me perspective," she said. "The non-Careers have one advantage in that they more immediately know that the stakes of the Games are survival. Careers have other reasons that sometimes get in the way. But for me, it's survival, too. It's about surviving for my daughter and the survival of my family." I wasn't too sure she could be noble, seeing as she volunteered to risk her daughter's mother, but there was many a tearful eye in the audience.

"Just call me Coby," Colbalt broke in when I used his full name.

"All right. Coby, how are you going to win the Games?" I asked.

"I'm going to surprise everyone. Even myself, to be honest," Coby said.

"We're a s-strong- an alliance- we're a strong alliance," Yttria said. She smiled nervously as she stumbled over her words. Some people aren't meant for the stage. "A lot of strong girls. Young women. Very strong."

No matter how long I did this job, some children would still chill me. Caio spoke as smoothly as glass and as warmly as honey. I got the feeling he really meant it. Either he was so good he could fool a professional interviewer, or he really _did _mean what he was saying. And that would have been worse. I saw the warmth in his smile and at the same time, the sharpness in his eyes. He'd act the same way if he was pulling out a knife and watching his opponent die. And as he politely apologized and congratulated their valor, some of the dying would believe him even then.

"Oh, what can I say that hasn't already been said? I've trained hard, I have my own tricks and traps, and I'll do everything I can to win. We all think we're going to, even the ones that really don't have a chance," Seychelle said. She was formal to the point of stiffness after that, until a parting joke about flopping fish released the audience's tension.

Klaus looked younger than his years, though he wanted to look older.

"The Careers have every advantage you can train," he said. "The rest of us have to rely on what you can't. Intelligence, for me. I'm not the smartest person in the country, but I don't have to be. I just have to be the smartest in the Arena."

I didn't interview Meenah. She interviewed me. It was all I could do to keep up with her half a dozen trains of thought. At the end of the interview, I was pretty sure she'd sold me something, though I couldn't remember what.\

It took Enzo three tries. After an awkward performance, he gamely kept trying to get the joke out. It kind of made it funnier how hard he was trying to tell it. It couldn't possibly have measured up, so the humor shifted from the joke to the herculean effort it took to relate such a small thing.

"And then the woman said 'have you seen my parakeet?'"

"I mean, I'm not very happy I'm here," Gasoly said. "I know we're not supposed to say that, but we're all thinking it. But I'm looking on the bright side and I'm going to just keep going. Maybe I'll win. Then I'll be happy I was here."

Adair walked to his chair like a robot and tried to sit down.

"These things are so tight," he said about his suit. "Do you wear these every day?"

"Most days," I said.

"You have a hard life."

"You have to be crazy to think you'll win the Games," Jezzebell said. "Not that I'm naming any names, Careers. But I can't judge, because I'm a little crazy myself. I'd be pretty depressed if I wasn't. But hey, crazy people sometimes turn out right. Maybe I'll win, and it will turn out I was the smart one all along."

Linden carried a single rose with him as he took the stage. He pretended to be embarrassed when I asked about it.

"I suppose you've heard the rumors," he said. "We know it seems hopeless, and I guess it _is. _But love comes when it comes." he left the rose on the chair as he left.

Visenya let a single tear eke out as she pretended to be surprised by the rose and clutched it to her chest.

"He's a beautiful person," she said. "He pretends he's not scared, just so I won't be. We both are, though. We know it won't last forever. We only wish there could be a miracle." Clever girl. Clever boy.

"You know what's really boring?" Gavin said, fidgeting in a suit that seemed far too big for him. "Hearing the same questions and answers over and over. But you know what's _not _boring? Hearing a ukelele." He triumphantly whipped it out of the empty folds of his suit and spent the next three minutes playing happy little tunes.

"I try to be nice. There's too much wrong with the world to spend time on being vile," Paloma said about her outlook on life. And then, about the Careers, "The most dangerous liars are those who believe they are telling the truth." I wasn't sure that one would make it to the airings.

I looked down, and down, and down, at Apollo. He wasn't smaller than average. He was just twelve years old. I, a man who'd lived multiple decades, looked down at a boy who measured his life in years. He was fidgeting with the energy that children haven't burned off yet, and his eyes were still large on his not fully grown face. Each year I grew older, and every year let me see more clearly what twelve-year-old Reaping victims were.

Powder shone on Wisteria's face. Makeup could hide her from the audience, but a trained eye could see the sallowness. Her hair was dull, even under the intricate style.

"Can mine be short?" Wisteria asked. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just don't feel good. I feel terrible. I just want to go to bed."

"I wonder who's gonna win," Argent said. "I hope it's someone cool, like Meenah."

"What about _you?" _I asked.

"No, it's not going to be me," Argent said politely. "That's just the way these things work. Not everyone gets to win."

Sundew wore her hair in a simple ponytail. It was quite the contrast from most interview updos.

"The stylists wanted me to wear a silly hairstyle. I told them I wouldn't go out unless it was a simple, sensible ponytail. I'm about to go into the Arena. I better be able to stand up for myself," she said.

It happened sometimes that I had no idea who would win. Most years I had some guess, but this was one of those days. A few of them said it, and they were right. Whoever it was, it would be a surprise.


	31. Into the Extended Tubes

**I wasn't feeling a last chapter with some random POVs, but I wanted more character definition before the Games. So I took a third option and gave everyone a tubes mini-POV.**

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

My fingers shifted and wrapped around my token. I turned it over and over in my hands. I wasn't scared of the Arena, I told myself. I was focusing on my token. My other hand was laced into Elissa's.

Dr. Splendor would have called that obsessive-compulsive behavior. That was a sort of anxiety disorder and they were often comorbid, but I'd never had to deal with that, which was nice. In this case, a cigar was just a cigar. I was about to go into the Hunger Games, and it was an old-fashioned nervous fidget.

* * *

Elissa de Angelo- District One female

Grande wasn't as nervous as I thought he'd be. I was worried he would get overwhelmed by the suspense and the lack of medication and support, but he was holding up like nothing was out of the ordinary.

With him taken care of, my mind started darting around. Blake and Ravi were looking around and glancing at each other from time to time. The tubes made a little groaning noise but didn't come down. Stylists fussed with my hair like it mattered. My neck itched. We were wearing dark long-sleeved shirts and pants. Were we going somewhere hot? I hoped not.

* * *

Atticus Scipio- District Two male

Donnatella was talking to Pray and Ava. The prattling was getting on my nerves. I didn't have time for this. I wanted to fight.

_Hurry up, tubes. Hurry up, hovercraft. Time to go._

* * *

Donnatella Bronos-Palassaqua- District Two female

"So go after the fastest ones first to save effort," I confirmed with Pray. I asked her half a dozen questions, staring so hard at her as she answered that I must have looked insane. I frenziedly wrung out every last bit of strategy and murder I could get in the last minutes I had.

With maybe seconds left, I turned to Ava. "If I can't, tell Kallista I love her."

* * *

Coby Keyes- District Three male

_What do I ask what do I do?_

A question I didn't know to ask might be the one that would have saved me. I had minutes left to prepare and didn't know what to prepare. And if I'd asked it, Beetee could only help with formulas and science and smarts. That wasn't me. I was on my own. Just me and Adair.

* * *

Yttria Noxus- District Three female

I pictured the Arena. It was sort of a vague image, since I didn't know what environment to picture. I pictured all my allies together. We were standing strong and we weren't scared. My parents might not have approved of such smarmy-sounding tactics, but visualization was powerful. I visualized us strong and not dying. I wouldn't think about dying and running scared and people running after us until we couldn't run anymore. I visualized every one of us, looking determined and like a team. We were winning.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Four male

"_On the right and left two seas enclose you, without your possessing even a single ship for escape. The river Po around you; the Alps behind hem you soldiers, where you have first met the enemy, you must conquer or die; and the same fortune which has imposed the necessity of fighting hold out to you, if victorious, rewards than which men are not wont to desire greater, even from the immortal gods." _

* * *

Seychelle Devries- District Four female

There was a strange gleam in Careen's eye as she stood watching for the tube to come down with her back tilted to me.

I came up by her. "What was it like for you? Were you scared?"

"No," she said softly. "I wasn't really scared. More like I was thrilled."

Thrilled. A good way to put it. The heat and vibration of adrenaline, but not the paralysis and melancholy of terror. Anticipation, not dread. Excitement, suspense, agitation, even trepidation. But not fear.

* * *

Klaus Riviera- District Five male

I sat cross-legged on a couch that looked like the sort in a doctor's office. My hands were clasped on my lap. I looked ahead at the empty tube without moving.

"Are you all right?" Skye asked. Really my mentor was Erwin, but he didn't seem concerned about me.

"Yes, I'm just fine," I said. I wasn't scared. I didn't need help. I was handling it myself. I was a capable and intelligent young man and I didn't need help.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

I was known for how fast I talked. People said I was a real windjammer. They said if they could hook me up to a generator, we'd have infinite clean energy.

People said I was charismatic. I'd seen the effects and even made a living off them. I could convince people to buy anything, even if it wasn't worth a cent. I painted a picture of what it would do for their lives and the people they would be if only they had what I was holding.

I never had trouble making friends, either. I came into a room and it just got fuller. I took up so much more space than my body. I went from one end of a room to another and every bit in between. I talked to everyone and everyone felt like part of a party instead of a gathering of individuals. People saw me coming and smiled.

And none of that mattered. I was sitting still, and I wasn't saying a word.

* * *

Enzo Ranger- District Six male

"Am I going to die?"

Lancia looked back at me. Her face closed off, like a mother telling her kids that Daddy did love them, he just wasn't coming home because he had very important work to do and it would last the rest of his life.

"Why would you ask me something like that?" Lancia asked.

"You're supposed to know everything," I said.

"It wasn't enough, what I went through? Now I'm supposed to know everything?" Lancia asked. I knew she wasn't asking me.

"You have to do this every year," I realized. And her unspoken answer came back. _And you don't._

* * *

Gasoly Wayfarer- District Six female

"I hope there are animals in the Arena," I said to Puff as she braided my hair. "Are there usually animals?"

"Most every time there are at least some," Puff said.

"I hope there are horses like last year," I said.

"I'm glad you're so positive about all this," Puff said.

_Oh, I'm plenty scared. It just won't change anything. I know I'll probably die. I just want to see horses first._

* * *

Adair Oakson- District Seven male

I hoped Coby was close to me when my platform came up. If we could just get to each other, I knew we'd be okay. We were friends. Sure, friends weren't forever in the Arena, but it wouldn't be like that. The odds were too long. Coby wouldn't be the one to kill me, because someone else would first.

* * *

Jezzebell Fern- District Seven female

I wanted to do something crazy.

I could kiss one of the stylists. Yawn. Cliche. Excited girl kisses someone for "one last fling". Old hat.

Throw something against the wall? Nah. I didn't want to freak out the stylists. Capitolites spook easily.

_Uggggh I want to do something crazy._

_Got it._

I reached out and snatched a pair of sewing scissors from one of the stylists' belts. I snipped a fat vee out of the front of my shirt, making it into a plunging neckline. I tucked the edges into my bra as the stylist noticed and started freaking out.

"Sorry, no time to get a new one," I said as I hopped into the descending tube. "Guess I'll just have to stick out."

* * *

Linden Anderson- District Eight male

One of the stylists leaned in close as she checked for smudged makeup.

"A little birdie told me Visenya is four platforms to your left," she whispered.

_What do I care? _I thought, and then remembered we were in love. And apparently so convincingly a stylist would risk Avoxing to tell me. A little late but not too badly, I remembered to smile gratefully.

* * *

Othella Fline- District Eight female

Hadley stood in the empty tube funnel.

"You're gonna diiiiiie," he said.

I didn't answer him. He danced closer.

"You're stupid and weak and there's no way you can win," he said.

"Yttria says we can win," I said when no one was looking.

"Then she's stupid too," Hadley said.

"At least she's real," I said.

Hadley glared at me and fell silent. He was still there when I got into the tubes. He waved sarcastically as I rose away. I liked Yttria better.

* * *

Porter Crane- District Nine male

Nassor shuffled his feet and tried to think of a way to help.

"Anything you need?" he asked.

"Yeah, a ticket home," I said.

"Don't I wish," Nassor said with a tired smile.

"Must be hard to go home at night and be rich," I said, and inwardly I cringed. It wasn't witty and it hadn't landed at all. It just sounded snarky at best and mean at worst.

Nassor didn't get mad. "Good luck, kid," he said.

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

"Is it okay if I don't want to win?" I asked Nassor.

He looked up with alarm.

"Oh no, I don't mean I want to lay down and die," I said. "I just… everyone deserves to live. I don't want anyone to die."

"That's okay," Nassor said. "I wish everyone felt like you."

"Still try to win, though," Porter broke in. "You're the only one who deserves it."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," I said.

Porter smiled. "I'm not smart, I guess."

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

Bambi and Cornflower always seemed like they were made of glass. Thin glass with long, slender extensions that made you nervous every time they moved on hard surfaces.

"I'll be okay," I told the two of them. "Don't worry about me."

Labyrinth padded up to me and I stroked his puffy fur. I'd always imagined therapy dogs as labradors. It never stopped seeming funny that Labyrinth was a poodle.

"It's going to be just fine. Nothing will happen to me," I said. "You two take care."

Calvary had been eyeing me oddly from across the room for some time. She finally came over. "Dude, they barely notice you."

"You two get lots of rest and take care of yourselves…"

* * *

Paloma Bennett- District Ten female

The tube was right in front of me. It was coming, I knew it. Like a living creature that stretched its paw down into the darkness to trawl up anything it could find and drag it into the sunlight of its open mouth. It was up there, laughing at me. It wanted me.

It was like a dream. I kept opening my mouth to scream, but it was stuck inside me. All that came out was tiny bits of breath, all quiet and anemic. My eyes hurt from how I wasn't blinking as I looked at the tube. I wasn't crying because the tears were locked the same place the screams were. But my eyes stung and blurred from keeping them open.

I wanted to throw myself at the wall. I wanted to dig my fingers into my scalp and tear as hard as I could. The only thing strong enough to express this emotion was my body and pieces coming off of it. I wanted to tear it apart until there was nothing left.

* * *

Apollo Courfeyrac- District Eleven male

"Hey, what's this made of?" I ran my hands down the material of the tube, which was firm but not glassy. "It's warm. Is there a heater somewhere?"

I ran across the room. I ran back to where I'd started. I stood on my toes and looked out the peephole on the door.

"How much longer? Is the Arena very big? How long until after I get into the tubes does the Games start? Do many people fall off and blow up? Where do they put the mines after the Games are over? Hades was thirteen, right? If I win can I come back and visit the Arena?"

* * *

Wisteria Rose- District Eleven female

A stylist held out a wrapped baby to me.

"They said you can hold her until the tubes come," she said.

I didn't move to take the baby. "Are you sure it's mine? I don't feel like it's mine."

The stylist checked for a name tag. "I _think _it's yours." She laid the baby on my lap.

Half a dozen stylists gathered around, cooing and feeling at the baby's hair.

"You must be very proud," one said.

"I guess," I said. _That's really my baby, isn't it? Marie. My Marie. _I made it. I got to be a mother. It was nothing like I'd dreamed.

* * *

Argent Ore- District Twelve male

Nubu was discussing something with Haymitch. Probably mentor stuff. I waited until they were done to ask.

"Does this mean anything?" I asked.

"Does what mean anything?" Haymitch asked.

"Me. Doing this." _Dying._

Nubu came over and sat next to me. "Yes. It means something."

I wasn't sure I believed him. But at least I wasn't sure I didn't.

* * *

Sundew Keope- District Twelve female

When the platform came up I would have to see where I was and quickly make a plan. I tried to prepare myself for a variety of Arenas, anything from a forest to underwater. Then I had to determine where the Careers were and chart an escape path farthest away from them. From then on my main focus would shift toward survival, since the most dangerous part of the Games was the Arena and not the other Tributes.

As the tube descended, my stomach dropped with it, like when you go over a sudden dip in the road. I steadied my hand on the side as I went in. It left a smudge on the glass. My breath made a cloud on the door as it closed. The elevator floor rose, pushing against my legs so they bent a little. It rose up, me in it like a pregnant animal, and slid into darkness.


	32. Countdown

Klaus Riviera- District Five male

Images of Arenas flickered in my head like pictures on a screen saver. A desert. A rainforest. A beach. A clothes store. A freaking _different planet. _In the dark of the tunnel, none of them seemed impossible.

_I'll know in a few minutes, _I thought. _As soon as the platform reaches the top._

The platform reached the top. I didn't see anything.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Six female

_Am I doing something wrong? I don't see anything._

It was pitch black. All I knew was the air was kind of moist. I heard an echoey thunk as something shifted in the platforms.

A red light appeared, and everything was clear.

_This will be a massacre._

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

The countdown clock blinked into existence. Its red light cast an eerie glow over the interior of the Arena. We were in a cave. We stood in a large circular chamber from which six wide tunnels branched out in various directions. In the center of the platforms stood a squat Cornucopia full of the usual weapons and supplies. All of this I made out in flashes by the instants of light generated by the blinking numbers.

_58, 57, 56…_

* * *

Othella Fline- District Eight female

We were all going to die. The Careers were so well-trained, they'd be able to tell where we were in the dark. They'd catch us all as we were stumbling around. And if they didn't, we would wander in total darkness until we died of dehydration. That took days, didn't it? Days of walking in an underground pit of blackness, unable to see and hearing only our own unsteady footsteps.

_49, 48, 47…_

* * *

Donnatella Brassas-Palassaqua- District Two female

I saw what they were doing. There was a crate labeled "night vision glasses" right in the mouth of the Cornucopia. There was a heavy rope all around it, and the lid looked as heavy as the top of a coffin. I saw exactly what they were doing.

_40, 39, 38…_

* * *

Apollo Courfeyrac- District Eleven male

It was a good thing I didn't have epileprosy or whatever. I wondered if anyone watching at home was freaking out over the flashing light.

I was in between Wisteria and Gavin. The closest Career was Elissa, and she was three platforms away. If the light went off when the Games began, I wouldn't be able to see them, but they also wouldn't be able to see me. I bet it would be safe to run in just a little bit and grab the backpack in front of me.

_35, 34, 33…_

* * *

Enzo Ranger- District Six male

This was no place for someone like me. I was a happy kid. I liked silly games and running around with my friends. This was the stuff nightmares were made of. It was darkness and tight places and being chased all at once.

_When we die they won't have to bury us. We're already buried._

_27, 26, 25…_

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Four male

I was vibrating in frustration. In the time it took us to get to the Cornucopia and find a source of light, they would be gone. I'd waited for the Bloodbath all these years and this is what I got.

I looked at Coby on the platform next to me. Just a few feet away, but untouchable until the timer sounded. He was going to get away. It boiled my blood.

I looked at the gap between us. _No he isn't._

_17, 16, 15..._

* * *

Coby Keyes- District Three male

I thought Caio was fuming as he looked at me with squinted, burning eyes. I realized while he was in the air that he had been calculating.

He slammed down onto the platform with me. I backed away and almost toppled over the edge in my panic to get away. But I couldn't get away. There was nowhere to go.

In a last bit of defiance, I tried to jump off the platform and blow us both up. Caio caught me by the collar and hauled me in. He wrapped his arms around me in a complicated move to get leverage. I looked up into his face, lit in spurts by the red glow.

_In my defense I don't think this is really fair._

_10, 9, 8…_

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

The sound of a cannon almost made me fall over.

_How can there be a cannon already? Oh my god the Games started and I don't even know. I gotta get out of here. I have to get off this platform. I have to get off but I can't the numbers are still flashing they're coming for me I won't even see them coming the Cornucopia is in the way I can't see any of the Careers…_

_7, 6, 5…_

* * *

Sundew Keope- District Twelve female

Caio threw Coby's body out as far as he could, so it wouldn't set off the mines. I counted the seconds it took for him to do it. I only needed ten more seconds…

He looked up at me. His eyes flickered down to the ground as he calculated whether he was willing to take the risk again. I looked at Jezzbell on the platform next to me. Could I make it? Would it be a bizarre game of duck-duck-goose across twenty-four platforms?

_4\. 3. 2. _

The last seconds ticked away. As Caio glanced at the clock in the corner of his eye, the last number winked out, plunging his face into darkness. The gong sounded. Without looking to see if he was already in the air, I ran.

* * *

**24th place: Coby Keyes- Neck broken by Caio**

**I didn't kill him first because I didn't like him. I just had a lot of deaths earmarked and his fit without messing up the other Tributes that had requested placements. Coby was a last minute fill-in and I much appreciate the speed from the only submitter I forgot to write down. He was pretty popular, which is funny since he had like five lines of form. That happens a lot in my experience, since tiny forms give me free rein and I tend to make them into normal, happy people. We thank Coby for the sacrifice of dying first because the other guy I was gonna kill had a requested placement of 23. So his time's coming worry you not.  
**

**I know it seems like Caio is super cool and badass but actually I just wanted to do the platform jumping thing and let's be real he's the one cocky and dramatic enough to try it. These platforms are closer than normal since the cave naturally constrained the spacing for the ring of platforms.  
**


	33. Bloodbath

Paloma Bennett- District Ten female

We needed a plan. I had sixty seconds to come up with something that would save our lives. If we didn't find each other in the Bloodbath, we would never find each other. The tunnels would swallow us up and the next we heard of each other would be our cannons.

Jezzebell was two platforms away. Beyond her, Yttria was four platforms farther. Othella was hidden from my view by the Cornucopia. A plan popped into my head. I had no idea if it would work or get us all killed, but I didn't have time to think of another. It was act and risk it all or not act and not even have a chance.  
I waved until Jezzebell looked over at me. I made little running legs with my fingers and swept my hand sideways, praying none of the Careers were looking or at least that they'd think I'd lost my mind. I pointed at myself, then Jezzebell. After that I pointed at Yttria. Then I pointed behind the Cornucopia.  
Through it all, Jezzebell had been looking at me with a cocked head and screwed eyes. Then her face flooded with understanding. She hesitated, shrugged, nodded, and turned to relay the message to Yttria. I could see Yttria shaking her head. Finally she nodded and turned to Othella, wherever she was.  
When the last number disappeared, everything went pitch black. I stood frozen for a minute, wondering if one of the Careers had memorized my position and was coming at me, making some of the running noises I could hear as Tributes fled. After maybe five seconds, I stepped off my platform and started running toward Jezzebell's, feeling from one platform to the next so I wouldn't get lost. I found Jezzebell by bumping into her and was relieved she didn't slug my by reflex. We found each other's hands and grabbed on.

Hand in hand, we continued to Yttria's platform. I sensed her heat the instant before I felt the weight as she joined our chain. We found Othella when I tripped over her, since she was huddled on the ground by her platform. Once we were all four connected by our hands, we picked a direction and started walking until Jezzebell smacked into a wall. We moved sideways until a tunnel opened, and then we fled.

* * *

Apollo Courfeyrac- District Eleven male  
I couldn't see anything, but I didn't need to. I kept one hand on the platform and stretched out with my leg. Anything I touched I hooked in. As long as I could hear the Careers scuffling around with the night vision box, I could keep harvesting. I even had time to clear the area around my platform and move to the next one over. I stuffed whatever I found into the backpack I'd grabbed, nicking my finger on a hunting knife I hadn't recognized until it cut me.

I hadn't heard any cannons. I guessed all the Tributes must have run away, unless there were others doing what I was doing. That turned out to be the case. My leg collided with what felt like another leg. We both quickly recoiled. I wondered if we were staring at each other blind in the dark. Who was it? They didn't attack, so not a Career. Someone young like me, maybe? Someone like Othella who was as scared as I was and hoping I wouldn't attack just like I was hoping she didn't attack? Whoever it was, neither of us attacked. I moved on the other way and she must have done the same.

As bold as I was, luck could only be pressed so far. I put on my backpack and beat it. I'd tried to memorize where a tunnel was, but I got disoriented in the dark and plowed into a wall instead. I felt my way sideways, rubbing my hands on the wall.

A minute later, I started to feel panicked. I wasn't feeling any tunnels. Was I going in circles somehow? I could be there for hours, until the Careers came for me. But then my hand shot into nothingness. I slipped down the tunnel and didn't look back.

* * *

Atticus Scipio- District Two Career

I tore at the knots with blinding rage. Beside me, the other Careers worked at other knots or felt around for blades to cut them. As soon as I heard someone scrabbling for a weapon, I abandoned the crate and looked for my own. These next moments were a loaded gun. We could own the Games or we could all die here. The first one of us who got it into their head to find a weapon and start attacking by sound would trigger a feeding frenzy.  
It might have happened if Grande hadn't gotten the last knot and torn the lid off the crate. We all stuck our hands in, grabbing for whatever felt like a pair of glasses. I slammed a pair onto my face, almost snapping the plastic band.  
The Arena went from nothing to everything. Aside from the green tinge, it was like a normal day. I bellowed and slammed my fist on the box in frustration when I saw the Tributes were gone. In the time we took to open the box and ensure none of them got it, they'd cleared out half the supplies and gotten away.  
"We'll find them," Caio said, responding to my frustration. He smiled and his teeth glittered through the glasses. All around us, Careers were gathering weapons and sorting supplies.

"Hold on," Seychelle said. She pointed at a platform half-hidden by the edge of the Cornucopia. There was a Tribute huddled next to it. I didn't understand how anyone could be that stupid, but they wouldn't be stupid much longer.

* * *

Wisteria Rose- District Eleven female

It was dark. It was dark and cold. There was nothing. There was nothing to do but die.

I stepped off the platform and it took all my energy. I sagged to the ground, sitting leaned against the platform. What did it matter where I went? I would die there just the same. I was tired, and there was no hope.

My baby. Marie. I'd never expected Wicker to be there for us, but he was a good man. He would take care of her until he found somewhere for her. She would have someone to love her more than I ever did. It wasn't fair she got me as a mother. Whoever came next would do better.

Someone was walking up to me. I could hear several sets of footsteps. I lifted my head, not that I could see anything. I wondered who I was looking at.

_I'm going to die_, I knew. I couldn't make myself care. I regretted leaving Marie, but she would go on. She never even knew me to miss me, just like I barely knew her. I didn't mind dying. I was ready to lie down and take a chance at what came next.

* * *

Donnatella Brassas-Palassaqua- District Two female

Wisteria's eyes gleamed green in the dark. She was looking right at us, but she looked through us. It made it easier to do what I did next. Even easier was knowing that I did it because I didn't trust Atticus not to take out his anger on her. From me, it was one arrow, through her skull and out the other side before her brain knew it was there.

* * *

**Holy Tiny Bloodbath Batman! I know I'm notorious for small ones, but here we have the record-setting Bloodbath in which, during the actual Bloodbath proper, only one person died. FAIL! Even for me that's surprising.**

**23rd place: Wisteria Rose-Shot by Donnatella**

**Wisteria was submitted specifically as a Bloodbath, or she wouldn't have died either. The main point of her development was to showcase postpartum depression, something I've never seen in an SYOT, for obvious reasons. So that's why she didn't seem to love her kid. She had some raging mental illness that was totally overlooked. So shoutout to AmericanPi for remembering something that doesn't have as much awareness as it should and having compassion for women that often get demonized. Wisteria was a beautiful person, and what she ended up as shows how devastating postpartum depression is. As much as an SYOT compares to actual real life women, that is.  
**


	34. After the Bloodbath

Grande St. Leger- District One male

The boy was walking blindly down a tunnel, one hand on the wall. I couldn't tell who it was from the back of his head. He wasn't carrying anything. It seemed like most of the Tributes had taken supplies before they left, but not this one. He stumbled over a rock and made a little huffing noise when his hands and knees hit the ground.

They taught us stealth at the Academy. Some of us paid more attention than others, in proportion to our arrogance. I had a healthy respect both for death and for my opponents. I'd listened and taken in every lesson. I knew how to walk first on my heels and then roll my weight forward so there was no sound. I came _up behind the boy like a whisper of win._

_This isn't fair,_ I thought as I circled around the oblivious boy to look him in the face. His unseeing eyes glowed green. I could see the twisted, terrified expression on his face. He couldn't see me at all. Careers already had an advantage just by being what we were. This time, it seemed insurmountable. Trained killers were going against blind children. It wouldn't stop me from what I was about to do, but I registered the injustice of it.

_Something good comes of this_, I thought. _They won't have to see it coming._

I threw an elbow strike directly into the boy's temple. I didn't have to worry about him blocking or dodging. He went down and didn't move, which meant he might have been fatally brain-damaged already. I brought up my foot and stomped the heel into his face. His head bounced as my foot ricocheted off after the impact. I could see from the dent that bone had given way, but I stomped thrice more to confirm. The cannon sounded as I walked away.

* * *

Argent Ore- District Twelve male

If I just kept moving, I might live. Not through the whole Games, but for another day. I couldn't hear anything. That had to be a good sign. I couldn't hear anything but the sound of my breathing. My hand slid along the damp wall and I kept moving forward.

I didn't see how anyone could win this. We were stumbling blind in an underground maze. Whoever "won" would be whoever happened to die last. I couldn't bear to think of it. Whoever won would have spent days upon days in total, endless darkness.

The darkness broke a moment later. For an instant, I saw a flash of stars.

* * *

Adair Oakson- District Seven male

I sat wedged between two rocks as I rifled through my pack. It was more a fanny pack than a real backpack. I'd been too chicken to stick around any longer. If I could just find something, anything, that would give off light, that was all I wanted. That would make it so much easier to find Coby. He'd been hidden from my view by the Cornucopia and then by obvious factors. One of us had to have gotten a flashlight or something. We'd find each other soon.

Someone punched me in the throat. I hadn't even known they were there. I tried to jump up, but instead I sort of pitched forward onto my face. It was suddenly much warmer in the cave. My neck and front were all wet. I thought I must have landed in a puddle. Then it came through what it was. I wasn't going to find Coby. He was on his own. If we ended up together again, I hoped there were trees there.

* * *

Sundew Keope- District Twelve female

At the Bloodbath I grabbed something small and hard. Not until I was far away from the Cornucopia did I sit down and run my fingers over it.

_Please please please please..._

My fingers traced out a rectangular cylinder that fit into my cupped hand. I wanted to cry when I felt a tiny metal wheel on one end. I flipped that end to the top and set my thumb on the little shelf that fit it perfectly. With a tiny flick, I could make light.

Frustrated tears pricked at me. I couldn't let that happen. Light might preserve my sanity, but it would end my life. The same darkness that choked me like smoke hid me from those who wanted to kill me.

There was a sudden scuffle of footsteps. In an instant, thought after thought shot through me. Someone was coming. They were coming fast. They were running. They were confident enough to run. _They could see me._

I held out my arm protectively, the lighter still in it. There was a slash of pain all across my front. The air around me shifted as I lost my balance and fell on my back. From the cold lack of pain and the warm wetness, I knew I was dying. It didn't make a difference anymore. I flicked the lighter.

The girl from Four stood over me. She held a sword that might have looked like the Reaper's sycthe, but against her frame it looked more like a crescent moon. The light flickered around us like a tiny pocket dimension in a void.

The girl made no move to attack further. She left me to my thought and to die, and I did both.

_I should have been a better daughter. I should have tried harder to be with Dad and tell him I loved him. I should have been a better friend, too. Bryony deserved better._ I opened my mouth to whisper.

"I'm sorry, everyone."

* * *

Gasoly Wayfarer- District Six female

I hugged my arm tight to my chest and felt along the stone wall with my other one. At intervals I shot my bent hand up and fiddled with my hair or ear. It made things seem less scary.

_There has to be light somewhere. There's always light._ If I just kept going, there would be light.

Something clattered by my feet. I jumped back and gasped, looking all around at the ground and seeing nothing. Visions of spiders or horrible cave bugs popped into my head. I liked spiders and horrible bugs, but just this once I didn't want any.

"There's a pair of glasses at your feet." It was a girl's voice. She was a bit away from me and hadn't attacked or anything, so after the first shock I wasn't scared. I bent down and felt around until my hand landed on something smooth and manmade.

"Put them on," the girl said. Of course I was already doing that. I slid the glasses on and the Arena came to life. I saw the walls and the floor and the girl aiming an arrow at my heart.

As I sat with my back to the wall, the arrow sticking out of my and my hand curled around it, the girl sat lowered her bow to the ground.

"I didn't want you to die in the dark," she said. "I'm sorry it's like this."

"Don't go," I said quietly. I reached out to her. Even if she was the one that killed me, I didn't want to die alone in the dark.

"I'll stay." the girl sat with her bow across her lap. "I'll stay until it's done."

She wasn't all bad. Even people who grow up all messed up like the Careers aren't all bad. Even they have a little good. That means the world still has a chance.

* * *

Apollo Courfeyrac- District Eleven male

I had so much stuff. I had so much stuff I had to shift some of it around because it was clinking together. Just let me be the one that still gets caught by a Career when no one can even see anything.

_Speaking of_... I probably had something that gave off light. Once I got far away enough from the Cornucopia, I could use it. I couldn't imagine living here for days on end in darkness. It would drive me nuts.

I never heard the spear coming. It caught me in the leg and I went down crookedly. Whoever it was didn't bother covering up the noise as they ran at me and kicked me in the chest so I fell on my back. When I tried to sit up, the Tribute stomped me in the ribs. Pain bloomed like a bursting sun. I lay back and didn't move again.

"Want to see how far down I can cut before I hit brain?"

It was Atticus' voice. I looked wildly from side to side, knowing he was right in front of me but unable to see him. At any instant my life could end and I had absolutely no warning.

The first blow sheared off most of my scalp. I felt the blade catch and drag at hairs. I turned to one side, but it didn't stop the next cut, or the next, or the next. The sword cut deep troughs in my arms as I tried to defend myself. It started to bit into skull, and then it burst through it.A wet, soft part of me was exposed to cold air. This was what the Games was. The people who enjoyed watching it, this was what they enjoyed.

* * *

Porter Crane- District Nine male

_Okay, it's pitch black, I have some random stuff I scooped out without any idea what it was, I have no idea where I am, there's no food or water, and I'm in the Hunger Games. Things are looking up._

I'd heard people talk about a "sixth sense" that someone is watching you. It was especially creepy when no one could possibly be watching anyone. Yet it persisted- a niggling impression that there were eyes on me that drove me to swivel my head. I didn't see anything, of course. There was nothing to see and not a sound.

Still, I thought I heard something before the spear hit me. It hit me like a punch, knocking me onto my backside like I'd suddenly decided to sit down. It was like playing blind man's buff, except instead of tagging me, the other guy straight up speared me.

"At least buy me dinner first," I wheezed as my hands curled around the spear. It wasn't that I was brave or not scared. I was pants-wettingly terrified knowing that I was being killed and I couldn't even see my faceless attacker. Some people scream when they're shocked, and some people joke.

"Guess you must be able to see me," I whispered, since it was getting harder to talk. Like an answer, I could hear scuffling as my killer nonchalantly moved closer.

"See this, then." I knew I died without an audience, since no camera would show the gesture I made.

* * *

Klaus Riviera- District Five male

I shoved my stuff back into my backpack and got up to keep moving. Probably the best strategy in a place like this.

A dog howled behind me. Supplies littered my legs and floor as I dropped the bag and whipped around.

_Oh my god they sent a dog mutt and I can't see it it can smell me._

Human brains are amazing. After that split second, it registered that wasn't a dog. It was a human imitating a dog.

I turned and bolted as footsteps started. There was a clatter ahead of me. I wheeled around again, near-panicked at how much faster the Career was than me. The footsteps started again. In the echoing of the stone walls, I had no idea where they were coming from. I started to run again and my head slammed into a wall. The Career howled again, right on top of me.

My arm came undone. The flesh ripped and it slid free like a popped seam. The scream that came out of me was unlike any noise I'd ever heard. I slid down the damp cave wall and lay against it like an embrace.

The Career howled again, this time more like a laughing hyena. There was another bite of metal, and my leg hung loosely by a thread. The Career didn't have much longer to enjoy his game. Two severed limbs bled out mercifully fast.

* * *

Yttria Noxus- District Three female

_We need to think of a way out. Fast. Every second we don't know what we're doing, the Careers could find us, and there will be no hope. But there _isn't _a way out. How can there be a way out of this?_

If we could just survive the first few hours we could make it. The Gamemakers had to have some way for the rest of us to have a chance. No one wants a Games that takes two hours. But based on the cannons we'd heard back to back to back, that was exactly what was happening. Children were dying in droves. The corridors were lined with corpses.

"Hide." Othella's voice was tiny and frail in the darkness. She stopped and the rest of us were pulled to a stop with her.

"What?" I asked.

"Hide." She crouched down, tugging me along. I heard the soft scrape of nails as she started feeling at the walls. I caught on and started in with her. Paloma and Jezzebell branched off, close enough to hear us but far enough to cover more room. We advanced down the tunnel on our hands and knees.

It was Othella that found it. There was a crack in one of the walls, a crevice barely wide enough to fit me. Othella slid into it like an eel.

"It goes back pretty far," she whispered. Paloma squeezed in along with her. I followed after. The silty ground was damp and soft and must have covered my pants like paint.

I didn't think Jezzebell would make it. She twisted and folded herself until she was finally wedged in along with us. There was room to stretch further into the hole, but the sides pressed in like vises. The rest of us awkwardly tried to help Jezzebell push up the soft dirt into a pile that would hopefully disguise our refuge.

_But we won't know, _I thought helplessly. We had no idea if we were hidden or if our crevice was nakedly visible to the strolling Careers. We'd either hear them pass by, or we'd hear mocking laughter as they walked right up, pulled us out one after another, and murdered us. Jezzebell would hear one scream. I'd hear two. Paloma would hear three. And Othella would hear four.

* * *

**Surprise! I was dying to give it away but I had to take the criticism of a small Bloodbath in order to set up this shocker.**

**22nd place: Argent Ore- stomped by Grande**

**Argent was a filler made by my sister so I could keep going. Since she just had Randy, Argent wasn't submitted to win. I killed him quick so all the reader-submitted Tributes would place one rank higher than otherwise. Thanks Silver for Argent. People liked him for his relatability and his real-workd struggles.**

**21st place: Adair Oakson- Knife thrown by Elissa**

**Adair was requested to place 23rd or 21st, so here he is. He was another last-minute addition so I could move fill-in dude for a solid, fast Tribute. Adair was also pretty popular, since he and Coby fit together so well and were just plain decent people.  
**

**20th place: Sundew Keope- stabbed by Seychelle**

**I set my mind to kill a ton of Tributes and that meant no waffling and showing mercy. I picked Sundew among many others just because she was middle of the pack and didn't seem like a victor right off the top of my head. It could have happened, but it didn't this time. I appreciated her complexity, though. She wasn't sunshine and righteousness and "no man left behind". She was selfish and had real personality flaws. She wasn't _bad, _but she wasn't nice, either. So thanks for a balanced Tribute.  
**

**19th place: Gasoly Wayfarer- Shot by Donnatella**

**Gasoly went on and off my second Bloodbath list a few times. I liked her so much and wanted to show more of her. But I hardened my heart and made the cut I would have had to make eventually anyway. I liked Gasoly for being overweight, which should be a problem in Panem with the processed food low-income people often turn to, and not being smart, which most submitters shy away from, and for being positive. She totally would have eaten bugs and met mutts, but she died here before that could happen. Thqanks flammifera for a bundle of joy.  
**

**18th place: Apollo Courfeyrac- Butchered by Atticus**

**This isn't a smear campaign against Atticus so much as Apollo's form requested a violent death and Atticus was the one that would do that. I picked Apollo because I so often spare the little Tributes because I like underdogs. This time I went for the kill. Apollo was a normal kid who wasn't cutified or evilified. Thanks Aceswims for a realistic kid who shouldn't have been here.  
**

**17th place: Porter Crane- Speared by Grande**

**Grande was originally for a Survivor Games so he didn't have a weapon listed. Javelins (easy mistake for Porter to make since he just got impaled) are pretty easy so I assume all Careers can throw one. I added Porter to the mix because there wasn't that much I fixated on for a Victor arc. Like anyone else, it could have happened, but I picked otherwise. Thanks Manny Numbers for a Tribute who was well-rounded, not too much of any one thing, and solidly realistic.  
**

**16th place: Klaus Riviera-Dismembered by Atticus**

**Klaus' form called for an interesting death so Atticus took the fall again, since readers prefer Tribute-committed kills. Klaus had a heck of a backstory and I think he also had a solid personality, though some readers thought the past overshadowed the present. He was cynical, a little jaded, and prideful. Basically a teenager, though many of us refuse to acknowledge it. Thanks R.J. Lupin for a Tribute who probably lost some popularity because his flaws so match a lot of Fanfic users, tbh.  
**


	35. Mostly Obituaries

Frankie Disney- District Eleven mentor

None of the Districts went out in the Bloodbath this time. It didn't stop us from elimination on the first day, though. It didn't hit me very hard, since I'd known it was coming. I knew it was sad Apollo and Wisteria were dead, but I worked through that before they even went into the tubes.

* * *

District Eleven

So many books teach children about death by telling about a character's first experience with it, usually by suddenly losing a friend. Apollo's friends experienced that in real life. Wicker did, of course, accept the sudden need for his presence in Marie's life. Family members and mourning friends pitched in to care for her, and a village raised a child.

* * *

Nubu Sanders- District Twelve mentor

I told him he was valuable. Maybe he wouldn't have believed it, but I still thought so after he was dead and I always would. Sundew, too. They were two more children I could never forget.

* * *

District Twelve

In some ways it's easier for us. We know it's not going to be one of us. We quietly start carving the coffins and digging the holes, and we fill them, and we're safe until next year.

* * *

COLBALT KEYES- Yttria Noxus

My District partner. He wasn't like most people from Three. That was kind of funny, since I was like Threes but didn't want that life. I wished I had more time to know him.

* * *

KLAUS RIVIERA- Meenah Turbine

He never seemed very happy. I always thought he must have had a hard life. I would have asked him about it, but he always seemed focused, like I would be interrupting him.

* * *

GASOLY WAYFARER- Enzo Ranger

It hit me in the gut. Gasoly, the girl with the big smile and the sparkling eyes. Every time I saw her I found myself smiling too. What purpose did it serve, killing someone like her? Why would anyone look at Gasoly and think it was better for her to be dead? It broke my heart.

* * *

ADAIR OUTRIDGE- Jezzebell Fern

They got both of them. Both the squirrel boys who ran around doing boy things together and never hurting anyone. They were just two friends having fun and someone killed them. I bet it made them feel really good about themselves.

* * *

PORTER CRANE- Visenya Lloyd

I could have been with him. I picked Linden for my own mostly shallow reasons. I could have as easily picked Porter and stayed loyal to my District. Maybe that would have gotten me more sponsors, or maybe fewer, since it would be splitting the District between us instead of gaining sponsors from Eight. But that was a different path than I took, and now Porter was gone.

* * *

APOLLO COURFEYRAC- Othella Fline

That made me the youngest one. Only one Tribute my age had ever won. If I did win it would probably be the same way Hades did it, but I didn't think hiding would work against people who could see in the dark.

* * *

WISTERIA ROSE- Donnatella Brassas-Palassaqua

* * *

A lot of people were probably surprised I did it. They didn't understand anything. To a Career, it was a show of respect. I showed Wisteria to her fate with my own hand, a mother to a mother. I didn't prolong it and I didn't give her false hope. Her child was an orphan now, like mine was likely to be. We were a lot alike, more than an outlier would know.

* * *

ARGENT ORE- Grande St. Leger

It was fitting he was the one I killed. Argent was one of us. People like me had a radar for people who faced the same battle against their own brains. We didn't have the same condition, but we had the same struggles. I wished him peace.

* * *

SUNDEW KEOPE- Paloma Bennett

I hadn't even known her name. _Sundew_. What a beautiful name. What a beautiful person, shining against the side of the cave and casting blue light on us. Like the sun, the sun I wouldn't be seeing for a long time.

* * *

Jezzebell Fern- District Seven female

Hours passed, or I hoped they did. It might have been minutes, cramped in a lightless, claustrophobic scar in a cave wall. My only certainty that time had passed was the blue light that flashed out of nowhere. I only had an instant to savor it, since it blinded me. I thought at first I'd been killed and it was a dying flash. Only the Anthem gave me the real answer.

If we weren't allies before, we were allies now. I'd spent what might have been a lifetime pressed against three other bodies. All I'd heard in the maddening, soul-draining absence was their breathing. The cave seemed alive as their rising and falling chests shifted around me. Now and then one of them would adjust position and I would feel warm, soft flesh against me instead of cold stone. None of us said a word. None of us could until however long it took for the Careers to pass.

A single footstep echoed off the walls. There was a clatter of loose pebbles. One of them must have stumbled. It wasn't until the echoes settled that I could determine the direction of the noise. Tears spilled over my trembling face as I looked out into the darkness. It had come from past us. We'd been terrified of the moment they would either walk past us or snuff us like candles. It had come and gone without us knowing it.

"I think it might be morning," Othella said. After a moment, she added, "or whatever that is here."

It might have been morning. It might have been an hour later. None of us had slept that I knew of, but I couldn't really know. I put one arm out into the body of the cave. Crazy as I was, I still gave me pause. I could put my hand down and find the the kind of insects that thrived in darkness had moved in and carpeted the floor. They would be a wriggling mass of biology that would swarm over my hand and crawl down my body when I pulled my hand back and clutched it to my chest.

There was nothing, nothing but floor. I crawled out on hands and knees and sat huddled on the ground.

_Okay, I know I hear bells. I know there are no bells here, but I know I hear them._

"Are those bells?" Paloma asked. She scooted out next to me and crawled toward the noise. "It's a sponsor gift!"

"It's from Seven," she said as I reached her.

"How do you know?" I asked.

She pressed the gift into my arm and slid it down until she felt my hand. She guided my fingers to a spot. "There's a raised seven here," she said. I felt the figure protruding from the canister.

_jinglejinglejinglejingle_

"No way," Yttria said. This was just the Gamemakers being dramatic. The other canister was from Ten. The mentors must have raised the funds at different times, but the Gamemakers waited to send them together for maximum drama.

I opened mine and felt around inside. My fingers closed on folded plastic and something smooth and my heart leapt. I ripped the glasses out of the package and slammed them onto my face. I could see. I sobbed with relief and delight and looked around in random directions, soaking in the glorious, amazing information entering my eyes. For some moments, I didn't register the others clamoring around me. My entire being was wrapped up in the miracle of light.

"I see you!" I half-yelled, then hastily lowered my voice. "It's night vision glasses." My blind allies' faces lit up.

"Let me see," Othella said. She pawed at me and I indulgently passed them over. I couldn't see her then, but I heard her high-pitched giggle.

"No way," Paloma said. "Mine too."

"I have an idea," I said. "Give mine back." I gestured at where I thought Othella was. "Just for a minute. I'll give them back." She handed me the glasses and I snapped them in half at the nose. I held one up like a monocle as I tore a strip from my shirt and made a sort of strap to hold them to my face. I tore another strap and tied the other half to Othella.

"Not perfect, but it will do," I said. We giggled at the sight of each other squinting out of half a pair of glasses. It wasn't my entire field of vision, but it was most of it, enough that it felt like both eyes were seeing, which made all the difference. Yttria saw what we'd done and did the same with Paloma.

"We're like a bunch of pirates," Othella said, and she laughed.

I felt the tears coming back and bottled them up so I didn't look like even more of a baby. Paloma and Othella didn't bother, and Yttria was noticeably sniffling as well. It wasn't something any of us could express and we all understood. We'd spent a night blind in a cave. The psychic damage from that was already permanently etched into us. At the time, I'd taken each second as it came. Now that I could see again, I couldn't believe what I'd gotten through. It was something I didn't think I'd ever want to think about again, but if I lived, I knew I would never escape it.


	36. Four-Eyes

**Merry early Christmas!  
**

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

Some Tributes looked at the Bloodbath- more accurately they _didn't_ look at the Bloodbath, since it was pitch black- and concluded that it was suicide to run in blindly to a nest of Careers. I, meanwhile, looked at the lightless Bloodbath and thought "_heeeeere goes nothing_!"

God watches over drunkards and fools, because I wasn't dead. Instead I had what was definitely a spear, since I pricked my hand picking it up, and a bag full of what seemed like canned food and a water bottle. When I'd first felt the cans I'd had a flash of cosmic panic thinking that I didn't have a can opener and the Careers would find me squatting by a rock like a caveman bashing a can against it. God smiled again, because they had pull tabs.

That was when the smiling ended. I was hardly smile-provoking anymore. While I was sprinting away from the Bloodbath I smashed full speed into a cave wall. I still tasted blood. If I got out, I'd have to see if my nose was broken. Oh, well. They say it builds character. If it wasn't broken then it might be now, since I'd bumped into walls a dozen times after that. I also tripped once and managed to land on the ground instead of the spear.

_Sure would have been nice_, I thought. _Sure would have been nice if the Bloodbath had had any_ flashlights_._

The sound of jingling chimes was like a celestial chorus. I took a cautious step toward the noise, calculating that the sponsor gift couldn't be coming from a wall and I therefore wouldn't smash into one. After two steps something pressed down on my hair. I looked grabbed the capsule as it started to slip off my nose.

Inside the capsule was something with flat parts and pencil-shaped parts. I turned it around in my hands and brought it up to my face as if I could see it if I just looked closer in total darkness.

I _could_ see it. I saw through it, anyway. I saw the dirt and rocks on the other side of the night vision lens and sat transfixed for some time, wide-eyed and enraptured at just... seeing. I slid the lenses on with reverence and cried quietly as I looked around in slow circles.

When I happened to look down at the capsule, I saw another pair of glasses nestled among the tissue paper in the bottom. Also among the tissue paper was a note.

_Make a friend?_

* * *

Enzo Ranger- District Six male

The first night was over. I'd heard a lot of cannons, but none of them were mine. I'd been huddled behind a pile of rocks, hoping I wasn't visible. The cave walls were damp and there were little streams I could use to fill the canteen I'd gotten from the Bloodbath. I also had a weird folding knife, some energy bar things, and a single arrow. I hadn't heard a peep from the Careers. Not that I would have heard them if they'd come for me.

_Speak of the devil._

There was a scuffling from farther into the tunnel. I shrank against the wall. The noise stopped before I could triangulate it and pick a direction to run. I waited in silence, utterly terrified. I had no idea who it was. I didn't know if it was even a person, I realized, and tears formed in my eyes. It could be something from my worst nightmares, feet away from me, and I had no idea and no hope.

Something bounced off my face. I reared back and batted at it. It landed with more a clatter than a thump- a very artificial noise. I was hyperventilating as I crouched lower behind the rocks. Out of panicked desperation, I felt around with a hand on the ground. My hand fell onto something hard and plasticky.

"They're glasses."

I fell over sideways at the voice. It was still some distance away, but it carried the certain truth that whoever it was could kill me as I crouched helpless. Seeing few other options, I put on the glasses.

I could _see_. I broke out in a huge grin as I saw, for the first time, a normal boy peeking around a corner in the tunnel. It was like being born again.

"Someone sent me two pairs," he said. "I was afraid if I got closer you'd run away, so I threw them at you. Allies?"

"Ten, right?" I asked as I stood up and wiped a stray tear. "Yeah. Allies. I had a really cool idea, actually..."

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

People thought I was cold and logical. Really I was just cold. I wasn't more logical than anyone else. I wasn't really that cold, either, I just didn't know how to react to things I'd never been through and I tended to default to not reacting at all. At the moment, though, I needed to be exactly as cold and logical as people said. I needed to keep my head on straight and think in nothing but facts and realities. If I let my mind wander or drifted from the next step ahead of me to my full situation, I would go mad.

I was walking blind inside the earth. I was living the universal nightmares of being buried alive and being unable to see in the presence of mortal danger. If I let myself realize that, I feared I would lie down and never get back up. So I kept putting one foot in front of the other and repeated what I needed to get done.

_Find Linden. Find Linden. Find Linden._ Linden had our supplies. It had been our plan for me to run and him to go in for supplies, since he was faster. He would have a flashlight or torch or whatever illumination there had been in the Cornucopia. I wouldn't be able to find him, exactly, but if I kept going and stayed away from the Career long enough, he would find me. It was scary to put that much faith in someone so much more secure than I was, but I didn't think he'd betray me yet. Call it faith.

It felt like evening when I sat down with my back against the cave wall. It felt like I'd been walking downhill, deeper into the earth. I sat in the stygian silence. The only sound I heard was my soft breath. I closed my eyes so I could pretend that was why I didn't see anything. I had no idea how long it had been since I had last seen light. It was like I was already dead and lay in my dark coffin unable to admit it.

I thought I had died when it happened. My eyes were open again, although I didn't remember when I'd opened them. I was facing up at the cave ceiling, but it must have fallen away. I knew it must have when a star bloomed. A tiny pinprick of light hung suspended in the sky.

I've died, I thought. I've died, and I'm rising to heaven. I was out of the cave. I was free.

Another star was birthed. Then another, and another. I stared at the tiny, incandescent things, beaming out their light like angels spreading splendor past anything a human could understand. The stars multiplied until there were too many to count. Some were clustered and some were alone in expanses of blackness. It was worth it to die, I thought. I'd never realized the universe was so beautiful. The moment lingered, light reflecting off light and reaching me, its only witness. Constellations spread out above me, galaxies spiraled, and in their light, I saw the expanse around them was stone, not sky.

I wasn't dead. I was still in the cave. They weren't stars at all. For the first time since the lights appeared, I looked down at my hands and saw them dotted blue on me and the ground below me. _Glow-worms_, I thought. It had been years since I'd read about them in some cheap adventure novel. That was all they'd seemed to me at the time: a magical invention for a children's story. They were real, though. They were real, but they very much were magic.


	37. Constriction

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

"Good morning, Tapey," I whispered. "Or maybe it's night. Or high noon. I have no idea. I do have light, though, so I got that going for me, which is nice." Some good ol' Meenah Turbine logic told me that while a flashlight would definitely tell the Careers where I was, it didn't make much difference, since they could already see me. There would be night vision goggles in the Bloodbath. The Careers would have them._ Duh._

"It's really, really dark down here," I told Tapey in a singsongy voice. "I don't like it. Nope, do not like it. Really dark. Underground. Feels like a coffin. Yuck."

I liked even less what I was going to do next. I was like the Gamemakers in one way: we both lived for drama. They would want a longer Games and more suspense. That meant providing us outliers with a way out of danger. They would definitely have little tunnels and hidey-holes, some of which probably led to food or other useful things. I crouched down and shone my flashlight into another crack in the wall. The beam went far enough without getting stopped that it was swallowed up by darkness. I stuck my head in and started crawling.

I tried not to think of anything at all as I wormed entirely into the tunnel so that the open corridor was behind me. I pulled myself along on protruding stones and pushed myself with my feet. It pressed on me from every side, so tight I couldn't lift an arm to wipe the dirt from my face. It hurt something in part of me I could never reach to know I lived in a world where someone would do what I was doing to escape something my country birthed.

The tunnel got narrower. I stopped and laid my face on the floor for a moment. I breathed deeply to try to ward off a wave of panic at being stuck somewhere horrible so tightly that even if I wanted to turn and flee, it would take half an hour to wiggle back out of the stone that loomed over me and around me like a drainpipe. It didn't help at all to breathe. When I took a deep breath, my back pressed against the roof. I couldn't turn my head far enough to see my feet. In near darkness, nearly paralyzed, I wriggled like a corpse trying to dig free of a grave weighed down by six feet of dirt.

I shoved forward and almost smacked into a rock that blocked the tunnel. There was no going on that way. I cursed the rock and pounded a fist into it. As I twisted around to start wiggling back, my face turned up for a minute. Then I saw the tunnel was still open- upward. At a ninety degree turn, there was a tiny gap between the rock and the tunnel. It looked about the size of my head.

I wiggled onto my back. It was a fumbling, cramped process, and one arm was wedged awkwardly under me when I finished. If I couldn't do what I was planning, I didn't know if I could turn back over. I felt another pulse of panic at the thought of trying to get down what felt like at least thirty feet pulling myself inch by inch on my back.

I didn't want to think. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be living, honestly. I cranked my arm under my back and slid it sideways to raise it to my ear.

It stuck.

I couldn't move it. I was pinned under tons of rock, clamped in on every side by something I could never in a million years budge. It clutched me from toe to head so tightly I couldn't roll over onto my side to release it. I closed my eyes and lay still. My mind was trying to fray, and I would not let it. I had a flashlight. I'd gotten this far. I would not let my mind start down a path that ended in madness.

I shifted my weight from side to side, rolling as far as I could. My hips dug into the thin layer of sediment on the tunnel floor. I wiggled my arm at the same time. Slowly, a tiny trench was scooped out of the dirt. I started dragging my arm up my side. It was so tight a fit that it went numb and cold with the pressure. Then, all at once, it popped free. The back of my hand smacked the tunnel roof and I lay giggling like a maniac at the freedom of being able to move my hand in front of my face.

I painfully bent my arm and reached for the space in front of my head. My arm caught in the tiny gap. I pushed it helplessly, raging against stone totally indifferent to my efforts. With a sob, I shoved forward with all my strength. My hand shot through the gap, scraping my skin bloody against the stone roof. I waved my hand in the beautiful open air between the rock and the tunnel.

With one hand leaving room, the other was easy to reach up. I grabbed the protruding stones at the end of the tunnel and pulled. I slid backwards into the opening, bending at the waist with my head and neck pressed against the rock. I was in an almost relaxed sitting position, the flashlight tucked between my shoulder and neck illuminating the tunnel above me.

This was the moment, I knew. I would try to wiggle up through the bottleneck to the wider tunnel I could see just five feet above me. If I made it, I would be through to the other side. If I didn't, I would die pinned and clawing at cold stone.

If it was morning when I went in, it was evening before I was out. Every inch was a victory. Stone scraped and cut my face to my legs as I forced myself deeper into its grip. With each movement I was unsure the next would come, and if at any point I had dropped the flashlight- my mind refused to finish the thought. Relief poured over me when my head and shoulders breached the narrowest point and came out into a rapturous wider tunnel.

It was at that point that I stuck. At first I thought it was a matter of trying different moves. With each failure, terror gained more grip on me. I gathered the fracturing pieces of my sanity and held them tight. I took in a deep breath, then let it out entirely. At that moment, I surged up. My collapsed chest screamed against the compression. I screamed in joy when the stone gouged divots in my hips, because that meant they were that far. I slid free like a tattered eel, and for a long time I sat in the open tunnel, a million miles from anyone who could hurt me, and cried.

* * *

Donnatella Brassas-Palassaqua- District Two female

"So what brought you to the Academy?" Caio asked. He was up because he was on watch. I was up because I couldn't sleep. So we sat at the mouth of the Cornucopia, absently chewing on energy bars.

"Oh, you know. I was the golden child. My parents were convinced I was the bravest and strongest and would bring us all glory in combat. I do like being a volunteer, but I don't know what I would have been like without them," I said. That was all he was getting from me. If he wanted feelings, he could look elsewhere. I'd had my moment of openness with him. It was more than most people got from me.

"Same for you?" I asked.

Caio's face went dark and he looked away. "Same for me," he said. "I don't know who I'd be without them."

"You seemed like you liked this life," I said. For better or for worse, I couldn't imagine anyone forcing Caio to do anything.

"I do enjoy it. I enjoy fighting, and winning, and the faces of my enemies when they realize I'm better than they'll ever be," Caio said.

"We can't get distracted by other people," I said. "We have to win this for ourselves."

"Or what?" Caio said. "I have two endings. Either I win and I'll make him look me in the face and call me Victor, or I'll die. If I'm dead, I won't be here to be embarrassed about it."

Someone hurt him. I believed people were what they were and no one could blame their choices on others. But nothing has no effects. We grow and change by our nature in the context of our nurture. I knew beyond a doubt, though Caio would never admit it, that his father hadn't been what he should have been. And just as clearly, I knew I would never be that to Kallista.

If I got out of this, I would be a mother, not a coach. If Kallista wanted to train, I would teach her. If she wanted to paint butterflies, I would be her biggest salesman. We would live the lives we wanted and no one would ever control us again. No expectations. No plans for her life. No telling her that she had to do something for my approval instead of just _be _something: Kallista. My parents thought I volunteered because they wanted me to. I volunteered to get away from them. I would never, ever, drive Kallista to do the same.

"He's not worth your pain," I said to Caio. "Don't let him have this hold on you."

"He won't," Caio said. He looked back at me and his eyes burned. "I'll be free of him when I win this. When I haul him before me and force him to say what he refused me. That I am worthwhile. I am a Victor. And maybe, when he says it, I might spare him."

* * *

**Meenah got a super long POV because it was a cool moment so I let it run its course. It has been noted in my file that she got a super long POV so I remember to highlight everyone else as well.**

**Meenah's POV was so long I just did two POVs for this chapter and didn't kill anyone lol.**


	38. A Tolkien Effort

Linden Anderson- District Eight male

Big risk, big reward. I chanced one of the Careers running into me when I ran blindly into the Bloodbath, but it didn't happen. Instead I had two bags full of supplies for me and Visenya. The plan was to use my flashlight. Hopefully she would put two and two together that the Careers would have night vision and wouldn't be waving a flashlight around like a bunch of idiots. If the Careers found me, the idiot who was waving a flashlight around? The plan was to run like heck.

She couldn't be moving as fast as I was. I had light and she was stumbling around in the dark. Or at least at first it was dark...

When I first saw a glimmer of light, I thought i was imagining things. Then I thought I'd found the edge of the Arena and the forcefield glowed. Then, when I was closer, I finally saw what it really was.

Cool, glow-worms. I turned off the flashlight to save batteries, even though I had a pack in one of the bags and it was mostly powered by a hand crank. After admiring them for a minute, I happened to look down and saw footprints. It was just one set, so it wasn't the big female alliance. Usually the Careers hunted in pairs, so maybe it wasn't them. I wasn't confident enough to yell, but I was confident enough to follow.

"Linden!"

After all that, Visenya found me. She appeared from behind a rock spire, wielding a baseball sized stone that she dropped as she ran at me. I ran to meet her and we hugged, half for our fake romance and half out of pure human companionship.

"I was so worried!" Visenya said. That was entirely for the fake romance. Of course she was worried, but there was no need to say something so obvious unless it was for someone as dense as a Capitolite audience.

"I got us lots of stuff," I said. I set down the bags so we could look through them. I didn't say what we were both thinking: we were in this for ourselves. I may have had more stuff, but being back with Visenya benefited me, too. Now there were two of us to fight off attackers and keep watch at night. Or, if it came to it, I had someone I could outrun.

"That was so brave," Visenya said. I hoped my face wasn't pointed at any of the cameras, since I definitely made a face showing how cheesy I knew it was.

* * *

Othella Fline- District Eight female

Paloma, Yttria and I were already through the small tunnel. It was just Jezzebell who was having trouble.

"You're too big," Paloma said as she and Yttria tugged at her.

"I'm sorry I'm swole," Jezzebell said. She grunted and puffed as she hauled herself through the last bit into the open circular chamber the rest of us were standing in.

Off to one side, a pile of rocks loosely blocked a larger tunnel. We cleared them out until we could fit through. After a short stretch, the tunnel opened into a huge chamber. The ceiling was at least forty feet up, so high I would have thought that was where the earth's surface was. There were various tunnels leading out every which way, and in the center, there was a huge lake.

"All right, water," Jezzebell said.

"Think it's safe?" Yttria said.

"They have to have safe water somewhere," Paloma said.

"Not just that," Yttria said. Even with the glasses I could tell she was suspicious. She picked up a rock and chucked it into the lake. Nothing happened. She walked closer and threw another rock. Nothing.

Paloma tiptoed to the edge of the lake and bent over the surface. Without letting her knees touch the ground, she reached in.

"It's not a beach," she said. "It goes straight down right away." She took out her hand.

The rest of us gathered beside her. I looked down into the dark water. I had a feeling it was clean. We wouldn't know until after we drank it, though. It would be days later when we knew we'd been dying ever since we got here.

With the night-vision glasses, I couldn't see far down into the water. It looked greenish and hard to see through. Bubbles floated up toward me.

The lake erupted.

* * *

Paloma Bennett- District Ten female

The surface of the lake was smooth as glass. Then it shattered.

A seething mass of eels coiled and slid over each other in a mound at the water's surface. As I ran, looking over my shoulder, they separated and stood upright. Those were no eels. They were one creature's tentacles. They sat atop a squat central mass lacking any eyes or ears. They moved independently of each other and with quickness and precision that betrayed some other unimaginable sense.

One of the tentacles launched at Jezzebell. She swung a rock at it and knocked it away. Before it could recover, she was out of range. Yttria and Othella weren't so fleet-footed. Othella, who had been closest to the water's edge, was yanked off her feet and lay screaming as she dug her fingers into the dirt. Yttria was biting and clawing at the tentacle around her waist.

I darted back and grabbed Othella with both hands around her arm. Jezzebell ran for Yttria. Othella's terrified face was turned to me as her only hope as she shrieked in terror, her abject helplessness and pleading ripping into me. I braced my feet and vainly tried to yank her farther onto the shore.

Another tentacle wrapped itself around her leg. The force doubled and it was all I could do to hold her in place. Then another tentacle slid around her, and another. Her lower body was encased in black coils. I started to cry along with her.

"Paloma!"

I looked over and saw Jezzebell and Yttria making some headway. Jezzebell was fighting off any tentacles that tried to grab them and Yttria was leveraged against a rock as she fought for distance. Jezzebell, her face turned away, was calling for me. For the rest of my life I would wonder if she knew I was with Othella.

I looked back at Othella and the seething coils that were winning. Her tiny hand clung to my wrist and the force was more with every second. I couldn't save her. I might be able to help save Yttria.

Even before I did it I knew I would never be the same. Othella hadn't seen the change in my face as I made the decision. It was shock that lit up her eyes when I let go. She screamed my name and dug her fingers into the ground as I ran to Jezzebell and Yttria before the beast finished eating her and turned its full attention to them. Jezzebell and I grabbed Yttria on each side under her arms and around her waist and yanked. After a moment the single tentacle pulled free like a snapped string and we all fell on our backs.

The lake surface was clear. There was no sound.

* * *

Othella Fline- District Eight female

Paloma let go of my hand. When she did, Hadley took it.

He'll be happy, I thought. He always had something negative to tell me. He told me there was so much to be scared of and that one day it would come for me. He smirked when I lay awake at night, unable to sleep because of what might be waiting for me.

But he wasn't smiling. He looked at me with nothing but sadness. He took my hand and wrapped himself around me as I slid into the water. He looked at me like a father might look at his daughter. He held me tight, one hand behind my head and the other holding mine. Underwater it was hard to see anything, but he was imaginary, so I could see him perfectly. I should have been scared, but it was like he held all my fears for me. I clung to him until I felt a rush of water clearing a space, and then pressure all across me, and then there was nothing to be afraid of.

* * *

**15th place: Othella Fline- Killed by a water mutt**

**I knew I wanted the Powerpuff Girls to find a giant lake like in The Descent. Then I thought of the other creepy cave lake I knew and added a reference to Lord of the Rings. Since Othella was with a strong alliance she lived a while, but when it came time to pick someone from her alliance to get eaten by the mutt, I went with her because I had some more ideas for the others yet. I wrote the whole death and then noticed her form asked for a peaceful death, so I did some quick rejiggering to soften it. Of course Paloma doesn't know that, so that sucks. Anyway, thanks guesttwelve for Othella. I don't disqualify young Tributes so she did have a chance, but I didn't end up going that route. I liked how she showed the quiet effects of Panem life on a vulnerable child and how she dealt with dark things a child shouldn't have to worry about. Even more than most, she was a tragedy.**


	39. The Outliers Strike Back

**Elissa's is a flashback because I overlooked an important part of her Arena experience.**

**There is a bad word in this chapter. Sorry, the situation called for it.**

* * *

Elissa de Angelo- District One female

"_Anjam dhad mmken ast ancheh ra keh aghaz kerdh aad_."

I didn't have incense to pour over Adair's body, so I improvised and used water to wash the wounds and anoint his head as I said one of few phrases I knew in the ancient language. May you finish what you have begun. His soul would transition to wherever it was best for it to be next as he continued to grow and learn. Death, then, wasn't a big deal to a Sofrehite. He might be a Capitolite baby now, or a District baby who would go unreaped and live a full life. I consigned him to the gods and left his remains for burial.

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

Everything was sticky and slimy. Enzo and I were covered head to toe in mud like a couple of hogs. But there was method to the madness. I'd learned a few things at the camouflage station. Human eyes, for example, were very good at detecting differences in patterns and variations in texture. Camouflage wasn't about concealing yourself so much as it was about breaking up your lines. People were looking for a human shape. They weren't necessarily looking for a human. With the night vision goggles drastically impairing our texture acuity, a mud-smeared human was nigh-impossible to tell from a mud-smeared cave floor.

When the Career walked into the corridor, she didn't even see us. We both froze in our positions on opposite sides of the corridor. She walked a few steps closer, then turned into a tunnel running perpendicular to us.

"Nice," I said softly to Enzo. I turned my head and saw his eyes glittering against the dark mud.

"Hold on. I have an idea," he said. He explained it to me. It gave me chills, but we couldn't hide forever. We had to risk death eventually.

Gavin raised his head and wailed.

* * *

Seychelle Devries- District Four female

I was walking down a tunnel when suddenly, I wasn't alone. An otherwordly moan cut through the stone corridors. I snapped around to face it, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. Nothing was there.

Maybe the cave was settling? That was what my parents said when the house made spooky noises. Or maybe I imagined it, like people in books always said. It always seemed to me that if someone couldn't tell what they imagined and what was real, they were mentally ill.

I didn't want to admit what I really thought. I'd seen a mermaid. The world wasn't as small as people thought. If she was real, other things could be. And I could think of no place more likely to be haunted than a cave full of childrens' bodies.

_It's not a ghost_, I told myself. It wasn't even a mermaid. What kind of child would believe something like that? You're not a prophesized "Moon Knight". You're just a well-trained Career with a signature weapon and an unorthodox style.

It wailed again. I jumped and chided myself for it. I would not allow a childish fear to get the best of me. It was not a ghost. It was the cave settling or some auditory illusion, and I was going to walk back down that corridor and either prove it was nothing or confront whatever mutt it was and if I died, it would be facing it and not running away.

* * *

Enzo Ranger- District Six male

When Seychelle came back into view, I waited until after she passed me to wail again. She whipped around and scanned the corridor. I was wedged behind a rock. That, combined with the acoustics, made it impossible to tell where I was.

While her head was turned, Gavin, who was behind her, threw a rock. It hit her in the back. She yelped and whirled back around with her sword clenched. As soon as she did, I threw a rock and screamed.

Seychelle screamed back and batted off the rock that hit her arm. Gavin took the chance to throw a rock farther down the corridor, past both of us. It clattered off the wall. Seychelle ran after it, stopping short to try to triangulate. Her breathing was heavier as she grew more agitated. She was past both of us. It was what we'd been waiting for. Gavin and I screamed at the same time, from opposite sides of the tunnel.

Seychelle was shaking when she whirled and slashed preemptively with her sword. Even in the night vision I could see her face was drawn. Just for an instant, she was panicking. I took that instant. I stood up and threw Gavin's spear.

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

The spear hit Seychelle just above her hip. She bent the knee under it and stumbled back but didn't go down.

_Shit._

I should have thrown the spear. Enzo had said it and he was right. I was the one with the pitcher's arm. But I'd refused. As we lay whispering about our plan, I'd balked. I couldn't throw a spear with the intent to kill someone. I just couldn't do it. So he'd done it, and now we had a wounded and furious Career looking right at Enzo.

Seychelle grabbed the spear handle. I thought she was going to pull it out and throw it at him, but she was smarter than that. She snapped the wooden handle off, allowing mobility without letting blood spurt from the wound. Then she ran at Enzo. I learned then that what they said about adrenaline was absolutely true.

Enzo tried to run, but he was no match for a furious Career, even when she had a hole in her abdomen. She caught him by his shirt and threw him down. As he rolled over, she stabbed down at him. He threw up his arms. The sword sort of deflected off of them, missing his heart but slicing into both arms and the edge of his shoulder. That was as far as she got before I threw a rock at her head with all my strength.

* * *

Seychelle Devries- District Four female

It wasn't a ghost. It was a clever Tribute that screwed it up at the worst possible moment. I was seconds from killing him when a rock bounced off my head and I had the answer to how he could scream from two places at once.

His friend didn't finish the job either. I was stunned for the second it took to fall to the ground, but then I was back in action, slashing at the legs of the first Tribute, who'd gotten back up. He danced backwards and retreated to the opposite cave wall. Another rock hit me in the throat as the first boy picked up a rock to join his companion. As I tried again and again to get up, more rocks, some as big as baseballs, slammed into me.

A voice popped into my head. This time I knew it was imaginary. I knew I wasn't really talking to a cursed mermaid. It was my conscience or my id or whatever you wanted to call it, and mine just happened to sound a lot like a mermaid.

_You shouldn't have volunteered_, she said. She said it again and again as rocks pelted me and as I slashed at the boys whenever they got brave and tried to grab my sword. Blood started to trickle from my hairline. Then it started to flow. The second boy picked up a larger rock and took aim at my head.

"You stupid damned mermaid", I muttered. "You were right."

* * *

**14th place: Seychelle Devries- Speared and stoned to death by Enzo and Gavin**

**I was having a hard time deciding what should happen next in this story, so I finally decided to shake everything up and kill a Career. The outliers are finally starting to adapt to the Arena and fight back. Enzo's form had the plan to fake a ghost in it. That fit perfectly into this spooky Arena. The logical picks for victims would be either Elissa or Seychelle since they're both superstitious. I picked Seychelle for no real dislike but just because I had to pick one or the other. She died HARD, though. Straight up slashed Enzo six ways to Sunday. Seychelle was one of the more interesting Tributes I've gotten. I've gotten everything from potato worshipers to a secret underground superspy-assassin, and Seychelle is up there. I've run across Moon Knight a few times in comics so that was fun to see. I liked her cool sword and her graceful style. This wasn't really the Arena for her, I think. She would have fit better somewhere more inspiring, like a Japanese Arena or a castle. Thanks person I forgot to write down for Seychelle, who was strong but not boring.**


	40. The Descent

**I needed to do these POVs to set up a lot of action for the future. But I AM aware Caio is overdue for a POV and he's coming next time.**

* * *

OTHELLA FLINE- Paloma Bennett

I tore my eyes away from the picture and looked at my allies with dread. They were all looking away as well. None of them were looking at me with the condemnation I'd dreaded. They didn't know, then. In the chaos and panic, they didn't know that the reason I'd been able to come pull Yttria free was that I let go of Othella. It was a guilt I'd carry to my grave alone.

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

"Did you ever think you'd get Reaped?" I asked Linden. "I mean, really?"

"My family thought we were exempt," Linden said. "We worked closely with the Capitol and had a lot of influence. Guess their loyalty didn't run that deep."

"I've seen people die, but I guess I was too young to think it could happen to me," I said. It wasn't uncommon for someone to collapse in the fields. Most of the time they get better, but I'd seen three people go down and not get up. In hindsight I shouldn't have felt too young to die, since one of the fatalities I'd seen was an eleven-year-old to heatstroke.

"It seems a lot more real now. Whether I live or die, I'm an adult now," Linden said.

"Do you think-" I started.

Linden shot to his feet, waving his arms for balance. I followed where his face was pointed as he stumbled backwards.

Back when I was home, every once in a while, a house centipede would scurry out from under a cabinet and I'd be reminded that I shared the planet with those horrible things. Bile rose in my mouth and tears sprang to my eyes when I saw I shared an Arena with one. Its body was as long and as thick around as an anaconda. Its metallic legs piled up beside each other, each bent in the middle and pointed at the end.

I was aware of Linden as I ran, though I didn't remember starting to run. The mutt's front pair of legs twitched. Then it moved with the panicky swiftness of a spider. Its legs upon legs surged over each other like waves with the wrongness of a creeping insect.

When Linden and I rounded a corner, I saw a pile of rocks and threw myself behind it. Linden crouched in beside me. We both shared a human instinct for hiding and hoping to be overlooked. A second later I was sick to my stomach at the realization. Cave animals didn't use sight to hunt.

The centipede mutt came into view. I tensed to jump up and run. Linden followed suit. But the centipede wasn't running. It reared up, giving me a sickening view of its underside. Its front legs swiped at the air. It came back to ground and was still. It took a few skittering steps to one side and waved its antennae. It wheeled around on itself and took a few steps the other way.

_Of course. It doesn't use sight. It feels vibration._ I sensed Linden had come to the same conclusion. Then its antennae twitched and I realized we might not be out of the woods yet. If I remembered my elementary school biology right, ants used antennae to sense pheromones. As in, _scent_. Scent it was methodically checking the tunnel for.

I nudged Linden and slowly stood up. He followed, quizzically tapping my shoulder. I took a step, carefully spreading out my weight and moving gently. The mutt continued its pattern without notice. I shook with fear as we started to make a necessarily slow escape. With each step I was sure it would feel my pounding heart and pounce on us like something that lived under a bed.

Soon we'd gained some distance from the mutt. Still, I didn't think I would ever feel safe. When I looked behind us, it was still hunting. Even without our footsteps it still had our scent. I didn't know how long that carried or if it would ever give up.

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

We'd killed a human being. A Career, sure. Someone who was trying to kill us, sure. But all that didn't change the human lying dead. She was a person. Her name was Seychelle and she was a human being. I'd only thrown the rocks because I was afraid of what she'd do if she got up. I thought of the rock leaving my hand and what it did to her. _I don't think I'll ever play baseball again_, I thought.

Enzo was hurting. I looked away from Seychelle's body and tried to focus on my ally. His arms were crisscrossed with slices that exposed flesh on the right and what looked like bone on the left. He was whimpering as he tried to close them.

"Are you okay?" I asked. I knew it was a stupid question. It was just something to say. I shoved down my guilt and averted my eyes as I tore strips from Seychelle's shirt. We got Enzo's arms covered and the blood staunched, but it was a pathetic attempt. His arms were shredded. I was surprised he could still move his fingers. If he didn't get serious medical aid, our silly bandages would be for nothing. They'd get infected and they'd get worse and worse until he died.

"Maybe someone will send something," I said.

"They won't," Enzo said. "And I can't wait." He picked up Seychelle's sword.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I wished I'd spoken up earlier. This hadn't been a good idea. I should have been braver and stopped it. Then none of this would have happened. But I couldn't have foreseen what he was about to do next. When I realized, my mind went soft and the words left my mouth. Then he did it, and all I could do was watch.

* * *

Elissa de Angelo- District One female

After the cannon maybe half an hour ago, the night had been quiet. I was on watch while the others were out hunting. Caio and Donnatella had paired up, leaving Atticus and Grande as an odd couple. I thought it was cute how Caio and Donnatella got along so well. They were such opposites. Donnatella was a levelheaded, mature young mother. Caio was a mercurial hedonist. He was destined to be the next in what I suspected was a long line of bachelors. And it wasn't a romantic thing, not at all. They were just friends and I was happy for them.

A soccer-ball-sized rock flew in from one of the corridors leading out from the Cornucopia, landing not far from my feet. I stood up quickly, ready to identify and engage a threat. But no one was there. I could tell where the rock must have come from, but the passage, which kinked shortly after it began, was empty until that point.

I looked back at the rock. In the dim light, it looked... mossy? I walked closer to inspect the curious tendrils that hung off of it.

If I'd been someone else, I would have dropped the throwing knife I held. The Career in me clutched the weapon to my midsection instead.

Seychelle's head lay tilted on one cheek in the dirt. Her mouth hung open. Her hair lay listlessly against her severed neck, indistinguishable from the dangling viscera.

_Who would do this?_ Careers hunted, but this was so far beyond that. Mutilating a body, hacking off a head, carrying it like a sodden trophy. And what they did to her... the cuts etched into her forehead.

YOURE NEXT, her skin read.

My skin clamped tight on my body as I straightened and looked down the tunnel. I was a Career, but I couldn't rush in. Whoever did this was strong enough to kill Seychelle. She was a formidable Career. More formidable in some ways than I was, I was secure enough to admit. There had to be a lot of them, or they had some advantage that overpowered years of training. Rushing in and getting myself killed to prove a point about Career prowess wasn't going to do anything for me. Careers win by strategy, not weapons. I picked a tunnel and started backing toward it, alternating checking in front of and behind me. I'd go a little stretch down the tunnel, peek around the corner, and see who came out to loot the Cornucopia. Then I'd either engage or wait for backup.

* * *

**Did I mention the Powerpuff girls got a molotov cocktail sponsored to them? Because they did.**


	41. Nightmare Fuel

SEYCHELLE DEVRIES- Caio Sagres

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I'd heard the cannon, but I'd assumed one of my allies or another had made a kill and felt a flash of jealousy. For a moment I thought the Careers must have broken up while I was hunting, but that couldn't be. It was too early. We were dominating. Someone out there really killed a Career. I looked forward to that fight.

* * *

Enzo Ranger- District Six male

Gavin and I rifled through the packages and crates in the Cornucopia. It didn't take long to ferret out a first aid kit. It was funny how the red cross symbol looked gray with the goggles. I opened a tube of antiseptic and started smearing it over my wounds.

I did that, I thought, replaying how I laid the plan that killed Seychelle and then drove Elissa away using her body. I made a Career retreat in horror. Elissa ran away, looking over her shoulder like we'd always looked for her. Maybe that should have made me feel like I'd crossed a line. It made me feel powerful. I was strong enough to drive away a Career. They had such power over us. They owned the Games, terrorizing and killing us. We were so scared we hardly ever even fought back. I'd taken one of their own and made the rest of them think twice about attacking me. They wanted this fight. I was just finishing it.

I could win this. This was what I had to like if I was going to survive. I could do this again and again. Careers who deserved it and outliers who... just couldn't live if I was going to. I regretted that, but it couldn't stop me.

Then the knife hit my chest. The high of achievement and the dreams of what could be vanished in an instant. I fell to my side and saw Gavin leaving me behind as he fled. I would have done the same.

* * *

Atticus Scipio- District Two male

The girl from Five darted down the tunnel in front of me. She couldn't outrun me. I was just giving her some time to think she could. That would make it all the better when I picked up speed and ran her down like a wolf on a fawn.

She changed directions like a rabbit and dove at the wall. Instead of crashing headfirst, like I'd expected, she disappeared into a hole I hadn't noticed. I reached the tiny tunnel and knelt by the entrance. She must have been down it before, since the mud was disturbed and had signs of digging. She'd made herself a little hidey-hole. If she thought it would get her away from me she was wrong. I'd follow her into what she thought was her sanctuary and kill her as we were almost on top of each other in the tiny space.

As I hauled myself along the tunnel on my hands, I could see the bottom of the girl's shoes as she wriggled ahead of me. She was quick, but she was only delaying the inevitable. However far she went, I would be there.

The girl was maybe twelve feet ahead of me when she flipped onto her back and scrabbled at the roof of the tunnel. When she sat up, I realized we were close to the other side. That made me happier than I wanted to admit. The tunnel was small. I didn't like the feeling of being in a stone corridor so tight I could hardly raise my arm.

The girl wiggled upwards. When she was out of sight, she revealed a stone blocking most of the tunnel exit. I shoved against it as I turned myself onto my back and started pushing upwards. I could see the girl perched ten feet above me, bracing herself with her legs against the cave wall to stay aloft. She looked down at me for a moment, then resumed her upward climb toward a ledge at the entrance of a larger tunnel.

Enjoy your last few minutes, I thought. I pushed at the last few inches that separated me from the open tunnel above.

Nothing happened.

I shoved harder, impatient to go after the girl. No dice. I gave a frustrated grunt as I yanked at one of the rocks protruding from the tunnel corner. Then the anger drained like water from a bullet-ridden glass. I tried backing up, and that's when the space left behind by the anger was filled with cold horror.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Four male

Atticus hadn't come back from hunting. Nothing to be upset about. The most likely scenario was that he'd gotten caught up in his sadistic travails and lost track of time. The second most likely was that he'd decided to light off on his own. If anything he did could be called "light". In any case, there hadn't been any cannons. Perhaps that very frustration was what kept him hunting for so long.

Seychelle was gone. Atticus was probably gone. Elissa, Grande, Donnatella and me. A pair joined since childhood and a friendship forged in the Capitol. Without the two wild cards to unbalance us, there was tension. So far the Career alliance was lasting because of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of this Arena. If we stayed together just a bit longer, we could finish wiping the Arena of outliers that might otherwise outlast the Career alliance and then outlast the individual Careers. If we kept our egos in check just a bit longer, we could get rid of them all. Then it would be just each other and the glorious battle that would entail. If I won, let it be against the most valiant opponents, ones that could face me and fight me and prove that I earned my reward. If I died, let it be one of them that bested me.

* * *

Atticus Scipio- District Two male

_No. No. No. No._

I couldn't move. I couldn't go back. I couldn't go forward. I was pinned below my ribs by stone heavier than I could imagine.

The third hour, I started to cry.

Stone over my head. Nothing but stone over me and under me and around me as far as I could conceive of.

What might have been the second morning, I screamed.

What might have been the second evening, my voice gave out.

I thought of home.

I cried for my mother.

I licked the damp cave walls.

I sat as my filth began and increased, until the stench filled the air.

What might have been the third day, I thought of a way out.

By the time I tried, I was too weak to grip the spear.

I prayed for a mutt to come.

What might have been the fifth day, it ended.

* * *

**13th place: Enzo Ranger- Knife thrown by Elissa**

**Enzo's form said it would be interesting if there was development. Among a couple of ideas, there was one saying he could become a straight-up villain. It's almost cliche that I tend to see the best in Tributes and develop them upwards. This time, I decided to finally develop one downwards. I tied it into Enzo's ghoulish but pragmatic plan to pretend to be a ghost and the note in his form that said he might try to use a dead body as bait. Enzo marks one of very few times I ever ventured into pure psychological warfare. That's not why I killed him, either. I just needed to keep things moving. Thanks Reader for Enzo, who started out such a light soul and showed what the Games can do to a boy.  
**

**12th place: Atticus Scipio- Dehydration**

**I knew as soon as I planned this Arena that I was going to do this to someone. Once I got a hate sink character like Atticus it was obvious. There were a few characters who requested nasty deaths and I do plan to do that if they die, but this particular one went to Atticus. Partially out of logic, since he's the only one dumb enough to keep trying to squeeze down a tunnel Meenah could barely fit through. Anyway, Atticus was one of those nasty characters we all know won't win and is there to kill people and eventually die. I could have maybe found something sympathetic in him, but this time I left him as the one to hate. So thanks Liamml for taking one for the team and sending that kind of character. I was gonna do a really long detailed description of his death to flex my horror muscles, but I was afraid I wouldn't be up to it and took a minimalist approach instead. We'll see what the readers think.  
**

**NOTE: That was a really small POV for Caio so he'll be getting more soon. He's going to be important in some events coming very soon, but I had to kill a few people before I got there, so I gave him a small POV to tide everyone over until he gets a good character developmenty one.**

**OTHER NOTE: I have a bit of a weird situation with Caio. He was originally submitted as a Two male and that was the reserved slot. Due to MY disorganization, I double-booked and his submitter was kind enough to move him to Four to help me out. HOWEVER, I saw soon after that that would affect his chances, since there aren't any reader-submitted Two male Victors and there's Shane for Four. In hindsight I should have moved Atticus instead of Caio, since Atticus wasn't designed to win. Caio's chances for victory got hurt because of my disorganization, and that's not fair. It was too late to change as long as Atticus was alive, but now that he's dead, I want to retcon Caio to be the Two male like he should have been (Atticus being the Four male instead since it doesn't conflict with his form). I don't know who the Victor is yet but reader opinions are a huge part of it. I don't think Caio would have gotten reader support to win as a Four male. I don't know if he will now either, especially since there's a lot of story left, but this way he will or won't on his own character, not because of my mistake.  
**


	42. Worse than a Giraffe with a Sore Throat

ENZO RANGER- Gavin Booth

Enzo had been going places I wasn't sure I could follow. Now that I was away from him, I wasn't unsure anymore. He had a much better chance of getting out of this than I had. I just couldn't be the killer I needed to be to live. He had a better chance, and look where he was now.

* * *

ATTICUS SCIPIO- Meenah Turbine

When the cannon sounded, I went back into the tunnel and took his glasses.

* * *

Lancia Audren- District Six mentor

I hadn't expected either of them to win. Enzo had been changing my mind, though. Some people would have condemned what he did. That was what separated Tributes from Victors.

* * *

District Six

Gasoly's classmates came together over a semester and pooled their spare change and their time to dig a small pond behind the schoolhouse. Stray toads and dragonflies soon populated the memorial to Gasoly and the rest of the lost children. Other enterprising children took over Enzo's delivery routes, but the business soon dwindled without his presence.

* * *

Donnatella Brassas-Palassaqua- District Two female

I loved the hunt. For three days, Caio and I had been stalking a Tribute. They were a sneaky one. They were always on the move, and they were too quiet to give themselves away. I loved the quiet work of tracking. I could lose myself in the subtleties of detecting the rare footprints on softer patches of the rocky ground. When the ground was damp, the tracks were easier, and when we reached dry patches, it took all our expertise to trail our quarry. It would be worth the three days of hunting for the moment of killing.

Tracking let me think about what was beneath me and stop looking forward to what came next. After we'd killed the last of the outliers, it would be time to kill our allies. Caio and I felt united against Elissa and Grande likely out resentment for their long-standing and genuine friendship. But if we were successful in defeating them and had no one but each other to face, we would do what came next. Caio was nothing compared to my daughter. On his part, Caio valued his life far too much to throw it away on someone else. It might have been different in another world. At times I wished he or I were a year younger or older so our paths could have crossed in the Capitol after we'd both won.

We hadn't said a word since the day- marked by the Anthem, so really more of the night- had begun. It struck me as part of what might be called the Career spirit. We valued actions over words. We were instead of saying. Sharing in duties, existing near each other and not attacking, that was what a Career friendship was. Two souls, one quiet and cold, the other burning bright enough to illuminate the corridor around us. Before long the space beside me would be empty. It was the most un-Careerlike thing about me to know that I would feel it.

Caio and I stopped at the same moment. Then we started again, like we'd never stopped. We'd both noticed the footsteps before us and the lack of footsteps farther down the cavern. We were looking everywhere else, acting like we hadn't seen it, but we'd seen the monolithic rock almost flush with the cave wall. We'd gone three days without knowing who we were following, but now we knew where they were.

* * *

Linden Anderson- District Eight male

Visenya and I didn't love each other. Not really. But in the time since we arrived in the Arena, I'd come to care for her more than I ever thought I would. It wasn't an erotic love of her body or soul that made me want to spend the rest of my life with her. It was a more oddly distant love that I didn't think I'd ever known in my home life. I'd felt valued as a son, and an heir, and a legacy, but never just as a boy. What I felt for Visenya came from nothing she had to offer me. It was simply what she was. It was her kindness- the way she talked about friends and people she'd known and she cared about their wellbeing without it benefiting her at all. She often talked about how cold she felt and how it was hard for her to relate to things she didn't understand. She didn't see that the act of trying, just making that effort to connect and offer aid, was what proved she had love.

Only one of us, at best, would get out of this. There was no future where we were friends or neighbors. If it hadn't been for the Arena, we never would have met. My life without her would have been complete on some other path. I would never say that anything good came out of the Games- to say that anything made them worthwhile was shameful. But since it had happened and there was nothing to be done, I was glad I'd met her.

It was the shift in the air that gave it away. In the contained atmosphere of the cave, sometimes the movement of a large body affected whatever passed for currents in the air. It was how we knew, sometimes, that the mutt was coming. Other times it surprised us. But this time the prickle on the back of our necks drove us to hide behind a rock, peeking out to see if it was the mutt, other Tributes, or something else entirely.

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

I yanked my head out of sight when I saw the tip of a spear coming around the corner. The mutt had been stalking us for the last five days. We never had a moment's rest without looking over our shoulders for its twitching legs and antennae. This, though, was even worse. The mutt was unintelligent and we'd always slipped away from it by keeping our heads. We'd even been mapping out some plans for traps. Careers weren't fooled so easily.

Maybe they don't know we're here, transitioning it into almost a prayer halfway through. I dared a peek and saw it was Caio and Donnatella. My heart lurched. That sank the only desperate move we could have made. We could perhaps run from Caio's spear-sword, but not from Donnatella's bow.

Then Linden ran.

* * *

Linden Anderson- District Eight male

The only thing we could do was stay still and hope they didn't see us. When I heard the footsteps and sensed the purpose in them, I knew that was it. We were going to die. I took one last look at Visenya. Her terrified face looked past me out where the Careers would be coming. Her eyes shone with tears.

I was going to die. That decision had been taken from me. But I could choose how. After a life of selfishness and never giving others the value I expected for myself, I could do one last thing and I could do it right.

I got up and ran. The Careers knew where we were, but they didn't know how many of us there were. Caio ran after me immediately. I looked over my shoulder and saw Donnatella readying an arrow. At the last moment I dared, I switched directions and started running in a zigzag. Her arrow flew past my ear close enough to draw blood. Before she could aim another, I was around a corner. Caio wasn't far behind me. I heard Donnatella start to run after us.

I didn't have long before they caught up. It was long enough, though. As I rounded another corner, I collided with a thousand pairs of sprinting legs. Three sets of running footsteps made a lot of vibrations.

* * *

Donnatella Brassas-Palassaqua- District Two female

Most people would have stopped at the sounds of a sudden brawl, but not a Career. I wasn't about to lose a valuable ally because Linden managed to get in a lucky blow. I sprinted around the corner and almost fell on my backside when I saw Caio embroiled in a fierce battle with a disgusting insect mutt. Linden lay underneath several of the insect's legs, his pinioned body moving like a puppet whenever the mutt shifted.

The thought occurred to me to leave Caio. He was valuable, but it was a risk I wasn't sure was worth it. The mutt answered the question by surging over him and into me.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

As much as I loved a battle, I didn't want to fight mutts. I loved battles because each brought me closer to victory. A mutt was not my competitor. It was just a dangerous threat that could get me killed. I moved closer to end it quick with a forceful thrust into its undercarriage.

My spear bounced off.

For the first time in my life, I was stunned. I'd had no effect. Then the mutt knocked me sideways and I barely avoided its legs. As they pistoned into the ground around me, I saw their deadly points and knew I would have died. I would have died.

At some point Donnatella must have caught up to us. I looked sideways and saw her stabbing the mutt's stomach with a handheld arrow. Like me, she was making no mark.

I got to my feet and recalculated. When the mutt came at me again, I reflexively sidestepped with the flourish I'd always added back in the Academy. I pasted a confident expression on and it started to become authentic as I danced around the mutt and jabbed in with my spear whenever I had a chance. I'd been unable to penetrate its middle, so I switched to sweeping strikes at its legs. The thin things snapped like twigs. Losing a dozen legs had little effect, but even a centipede ran out of legs eventually.

Donnatella screamed. I looked over and my mouth fell open. She lay with her bottom half on the ground and her top half curled up near the mutt's head, held aloft by the leg through her shoulder. She grabbed it barehanded and bent it between two hands until it snapped. In a pool of juices and blood, she landed on the ground.

* * *

Donnatella Brassas-Palassaqua- District Two female

Whenever I started to get up, it knocked me back down. Hideous bug parts and beastly skittering legs surrounded me. Before long I abandoned the knife and started snapping legs barehanded. It was while I was snapping one that another one impaled me. The vibrations of the mutt moving reverberated through me as it and I thrashed. Pain bloomed all down my side around the leg embedded inside me. I heard Caio scream. It wasn't a sound I'd ever thought I'd hear.

It was unimaginable how fast a battle could turn. I was on my back with spearlike legs coming at me from every direction. I was fighting just to stay alive. Linden was long forgotten. I next thought of him when his still-pinioned body crashed into me when the mutt struck again.

I couldn't die. I couldn't make my child an orphan. I snapped the leg off close to my shoulder to allow more mobility. I dove at a pair of legs, aiming to slip between them and attack the mutt from the side. I eluded one of them. The other crushed through my hip and into the dirt underneath.

I turned over, twisting my back so I faced up at the mutt. Nothing mattered. Nothing except surviving. I bashed and tore at the legs around me. Blood spurted from the two holes in me. Specks of it painted my face and doused my eyes. I didn't feel any pain anymore as I fought. I fought from the air as I dangled. When a leg punched through my chest and pinned me to the ground, I fought from the ground. In my last moments, I never clearly thought of my daughter- her face or her life without me. In my last moments, my mind was entirely consumed with the struggle to live for her.

* * *

**11th place: Linden Anderson- Stabbed by mutt  
**

**Linden was interesting right away because his form described him as selfish. Few submitters are honest enough to give their Tributes real flaws like that. His form also said if he died it would be sacrificing himself for Visenya. Not out of love, but just human connection. I enjoyed having that non-romantic value of another person. The form also described them being stalked by a mutt, and it all came together with them and the Careers. CarlpoppaLOL is always good for a thought-out Tribute with a good story from start to end, and this was no different.  
**

**10th place: Donnatella Brassas-Palassaqua- Killed by mutt**

**I've had Career mothers before, oddly enough. Donnatella was more than that, like they all are. She made her own choices and put herself first enough to volunteer despite Kallista. She forged a real friendship with Caio that never pandered into insulting notions of throwing away her life for someone she'd barely met. Their relationship was built on respect and honesty, bedrocks for any Career. The reason there were so many deathless chapters was because I was setting things up for a lot of deaths in a certain order because many Tributes, like Donnatella, had a requested placings range. Linden died first, for example, because Donnatella's request was 11th or better. There were no flaws that made me kill her. It was just one happy ending that wasn't the one that got picked. Thanks 66samvr for a Career who valued her family but in the end, lived her own life.**


	43. Oh You Thought It Was Gone

**Lil short chapter since I can usually write one POV a night after work and went ahead and gave you two POVs to stay speedy.**

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

As I darted in closer, my spear arm snapped out at the mutt's legs in a slash. Like a perverted mirror of my own fighting style, it danced back in a ripple of limbs. It curled around on itself sideways and struck at me like a snake. I fell onto my back quick enough to not be slit open to the ribs but not fast enough to avoid a deep slash diagonally across my chest. Before I could get up, a bladed leg skewered my foot through the tendon where it met the leg. The mutt yanked me in, and I had a nightmarish thought that now I knew what fishing felt like from the other side.

For the first time in my life, there was a crack in my confidence. And as soon as there was a crack, the wall came tumbling down. I didn't even know I was screaming until I heard it. The mutt loomed over me like a spider on a fly. I spastically swung my weapon in a desperate attempt, praying that it would have some effect and that I wouldn't die where I lay. The blow deflected off the carapace protecting the mutt's head. The only evidence I'd even hit the thing at all was the thin tendrils atop its head, which were snapped.

The mutt reared sharply. Its leg was yanked free from my foot. Blood spurted from it as I crabwalked backwards and waited for dozens upon dozens of legs to hit the ground and hunt me down. I rolled onto my back and crawled, waiting for the skewers in my back.

I looked over my shoulder to see it coming. But the mutt hadn't advanced. Its legs were on the ground, but it wasn't coming for me. It seemed bizarrely aimless. It was tossing its head and shuffling its feet listlessly back and forth in the same spots.

It's those things on its head, I put it together. It didn't have any eyes. It saw with those skinny things, or something like seeing. I got to my feet, buckling on my impaled foot and leaning on the cave wall for support.

I was about to die.

I knew it as I limped away from the thing. It floundered behind me, and I knew that if I hadn't gotten away, I would have died. It would have beaten me. That was what made me tremble, far more than the blood and shock. It wasn't my skills or my finesse that saved me. It was a lucky strike. A stupid, lucky strike at something I hadn't even been aiming for.

I shook even more when I saw Donnatella's body swaying at the ends of four of its legs, her hair sliding in tendrils across the cave floor. I hadn't even known she was dead. It killed Donnatella and there wasn't a thing I could have done. As I limped away, sticky with blood and the mutt's fluids, the cave had never seemed so narrow and dark. I'd always known there would be fights for me. I had just learned something that would never let me be the same. There would be fights for me that I might not win.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

My hand looked so tasty. It pale skin was almost the color of pasta. Chewy, hearty pasta that stuck to your insides and made you feel full. I never felt more like I'd eaten a real meal than after I'd eaten a plate of spaghetti. My hand, waving in front of my face, looked like nothing else more than a round, fat ziti.

It had been six days since I'd eaten. It was two days after the Bloodbath before the snotlike yellowish moss growing on some patches of the wall looked like a better option than going without. It hadn't poisoned me, so I'd kept going. I'd eaten the last of it the day before I caught Atticus.

"Hungry" had almost left me behind. I didn't feel hungry so much as I felt floaty. It was like my stomach had been so empty for so long that it had started spreading out and eating the rest of my insides. I was sure that if someone cut me in half, I would be hollow. I'd been absentmindedly sucking on my lip. It was like eating without any of the fullness. Always eating, never having eaten.

I should check Atticus again. When I took his glasses, I'd checked his pockets for food and hadn't found any. Maybe there was something I missed. Really, I knew there was nothing I had missed. No one as hungry as I was could have overlooked anything. But I needed something to hope for, even if it was nothing.

I crawled back toward Atticus. I was so empty and faraway that it wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. I'd avoided the tunnel where I left him. I couldn't imagine the thought of being in the space near him after I'd left him to die alone in the dark. Such a place would be haunted, or at the very least heavy with the significance of what I'd done. But now I literally couldn't imagine it. I didn't have the energy for fantasy. I crawled numbly, like a thing that only moved because didn't see it was already dead.

I lowered myself onto the rock that pinned Atticus and sat heavily. In the dark and with my energy level, I barely saw him until I was right on top of him. Then I saw the discolored marks on the wall where he'd tried to claw free and the nail-less fingers that were the reason he left marks.

He was looking up at me. My stomach churned when I saw his face. I heaved, but there was nothing to come up. His face was alive. Not with him. With insects. I heaved again and again as the sight of them flashed in my head even though my eyes were shut and my hands were clutched to my chest. They were rock-colored things with raised bodies and four pairs of bent legs. In front of their eight legs they had jagged, split pincers lined with little grabbing claws. They crawled on his face. They crawled in and out of his face.

They're in his nose they're in his eyes they're in his mouth his nose his mouth.

I could never have the strength to reach past them and look through Atticus' pockets. I had greater strength. Horrible nightmare insects. What I was thinking what unthinkable. It wasn't my mind that did it. Where my mind revolted, my body refused to die. I lingered outside myself and watched what happened next. I was still, mesmerized by the swarming biting picking insects. My eyes picked one out, one that hadn't been inside Atticus and didn't have pieces of him in its body. My hand reached for it. My fingers trapped it. I ate.

* * *

**Ha ha everyone was like "wow Caio so strong he didn't even get hurt!" no he totally got his butt kicked. I just didn't have that last chapter since it would have been really long then. Fair complaint, though, had that actually been the case.**

**Yeah those are totally those nasty cave spiders. For a dramatic reenactment of Meenah's POV, see Fear Factor Las Vegas.**


	44. Food

LINDEN ANDERSON- Visenya Lloyd

I didn't understand why he did it. Linden was honest about being in this for himself. My best guess was that he thought we were sure goners and did the best he could with it. I missed him already. No matter how close you try to stay, people come in and out of your life. But there are some that, even after they leave, you never forget.

* * *

DONNATELLA BRASSAS-PALASSAQUA- Caio Sagres

My foot throbbed as Elissa wrapped it. I'd started treating it myself, but she was just that kind of person. It took me till near "sundown" to limp back to the Cornucopia. I could only tell because soon after I arrived the Anthem started playing. I'd told Grande and Elissa what happened, but they didn't really know. They didn't know like I did when I saw Donnatella's face on the ceiling and remembered how it had never even been a fight.

* * *

Yttria Noxus- District Three female

"Ready?" I asked.

"Ready," Jezzebell said.

"Ready," Paloma said.

We stood clustered ten feet from the edge of the water. Jezzebell was shirtless. Why was Jezzebell shirtless? Because her shirt was stuffed full of rocks and whatever we could cobble together and Paloma and I were holding on to its tied-together sleeves. Jezzebell was the tallest, so she had the longest sleeves. Hence her shirt was the chosen sacrifice.

Jezzebell threw three rocks into the water, one after another. We waited a moment and then went into action. Paloma and I threw the stuffed shirt out ahead of us. We started tugging it around like a fly-fisher trying to make his bait more lively. If it hadn't been deadly serious and imminently dangerous, it would have looked pretty ridiculous.

The water roiled and we knew we'd gotten our mark. A tentacle shot out and grabbed the shirt. When it did, I almost dropped the shirt, but I regained my nerve and held on. We tugged back at the shirt as the tentacle tried to yank it in. It was like trying to hold a bull by the nose.

"Go!" we both screamed, but it was obvious. Jezzebell was already picking up the rock we'd set aside. It was the largest she could comfortably lift, and it was barely comfortable. She strained and pick up the rock. When she had it on her hip, she hobble-ran forward as far as she dared. She lifted the rock as high as she could and slammed it down onto the tentacle. Fluid spurted from the tentacle as the rock flattened and easily crushed through it. Its remaining length drew back into the water, leaving us with the three or so feet of stub and the part wrapped around the shirt.

Jezzebell shuddered as she put her slimy shirt back on. "Fits like a dream," she said of the stretched-out shirt that exposed half her bra with its loosened neck.

None of us had eaten in days. This had been the last day we felt we'd still be strong enough to try. The limp length of dark tentacle on the ground was the most delicious-looking thing I'd ever seen.

"They pay extra for this in the Capitol, don't they?" Paloma said. She picked up the floppy noodle. "For it not to be cooked."

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

I clutched my stomach and reeled. How long had it been since I last ate? How long had we even been in here? It didn't seem like more than a week, but I'd lost track somewhere along the way. Time didn't matter here anyway.

There was nothing to eat. Nothing. Not wildlife, not plants, not Capitol caches. The only thing I could do was go back to the Cornucopia and try to find a way to steal some from the Careers. They were probably out hunting a lot now, trying to wipe up the few of us left so they could fight it out between themselves. And in our condition they would be able to.

The sound of jingling chimes made me jump up and start crying all at once. I looked at the ceiling and a shower of dust rained onto me. A parachute appeared out of the drilled hole. I grabbed it and tore the package open.

Please be food food food food food

It was a hearing aid. A little plastic nub I only recognized from the earpieces Peacekeepers sometimes wore. I hung my head and cried for a few minutes before I brokenheartedly tried it on.

The cave came alive. The little patch of light from my flashlight paled compared to the information I could now hear. I heard water trickling and the sound of air moving through the tunnel. My own breathing sounded weirdly heavy. I would be the only one who heard the Careers before they heard us.

As I fiddled with the earpiece, my fingers came across a tiny button. I pressed it.

"Love comes when it comes," Linden's voice said.

I almost tore the earpiece out in shock. But even this far into the Games, I stopped myself and remembered to play the part. When I thought about it, something like this couldn't have come from Nine. We couldn't afford a gift of this price. Linden's family was wealthy. I guess we must have convinced them.

"Thank you," I said to the ceiling. I let them think the tears in my eyes were gratitude and love and not starvation and disappointment.

I stuck close to the wall as I crept back towards the Cornucopia. With my newly augmented hearing, I didn't have to be as afraid. I wasn't fooling myself that I could sneak up on the Careers, but now they couldn't sneak up on me. It seemed like the way to the Cornucopia, anyway. All the tunnels looked the same. I saw another corridor branching sideways off mine and stopped to look down it. A bunch of rocks were strewn at the bottom, but there was enough room to go through. It was only a short tunnel, so I took a look.

At the end of the tunnel there was a huge cavern with a lake in the middle. Far more important were the three Tributes sitting in a circle and talking. It was hard to remember all the Tributes we'd started out with, but I could recall four girls who allied. The tall one was from Seven, Paloma was from Ten, and the other girl was from either Five or Three. I always got those two mixed up. They obviously had food. If they didn't after this much time, they would be looking for it. Or lying on the ground dying.

This late in the Games, they wouldn't take one another ally. I would be at best another mouth to feed. I couldn't go up to them and ask. I would have to take. I couldn't fight all three of them. At some point, they'd go to sleep. They'd leave someone on watch. Then I'd go in and do what I had to do.


	45. My Way Is Not Very Sportsmanlike

**LOL I guess you could say Meenah's not hurting for food if you don't mind eating raw cave spiders. But I know what you mean.**

* * *

Yttria Noxus- District Three female

Jezzebell and Paloma weren't really asleep so much as they were sort of dozing. None of us had really slept since we got here. The dark cave just got sort of darker for a while and time got more blurred and stringy. I would 'wake up' feeling like I'd laid down but not that I'd been asleep.

While I sat watch, I thought strategy. There were three of us allies. The Careers were obviously our biggest threat, like they always had been. We needed to get just one of them dead. Preferably Elissa or Grande, since they were together. With either of them dead, the other wouldn't be interested in maintaining an alliance with Caio. They would fight and then we'd only have one Career to deal with. We could kill one Career between the three of us. Especially since whoever it was would probably be injured. It was ambitious, but it was possible.

_How will we get one alone?_ The Careers weren't static objects. They were making their own moves and plans. They knew there were three of us and they wouldn't be splitting up like a bunch of characters from a kids' book. If I was them, I would be looking for the three of us to launch an assault. Three of them against three of us wasn't a risk to them.

_If just one dies..._ Two Careers, and we could move. Preferably one, but two was feasible. We could lay out our plan and launch an assault they wouldn't see coming. That was even better. With one, they would be watching their back. Two would still be secure. Two it was, then. But not until we had a plan.

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

I stepped lightly out into the cavern. Yttria was keeping an eye out, but not as much as she might have been. It was just a fact of the human race that we tended to stop paying attention if nothing happened for a long time. Tell someone to keep watch and she'll be hyper-alert for some time, and then, when nothing happens for hours and hours, your brain just starts autofilling for the lack of information. Yttria seemed to be thinking about something that took a lot of brainpower, since her head was in her hands and she'd been looking the same direction for a few minutes.

In one hand I held a rock the size of my fist. When I got close enough to Yttria, I'd hit her with it. It would knock her out, I insisted to myself. It would knock her out and I would take some food and run. I held that thought in my head. There were other thoughts, thoughts about killing her while I could, killing her allies and having three opponents eliminated. Those thought lingered, unaddressed but unbanished.

It wasn't that big a cavern. It wasn't long before I was only a few steps behind Yttria. That was when she turned and saw me.

* * *

Yttria Noxus- District Three female

When I turned to make sure no one was sneaking up on us, someone was. The girl from Nine was just feet away from me.

She was holding a rock. She threw it at me as soon as I turned. It hit me on the eyebrow and my head snapped back at the burst of stunning pain. I fell back off the rock I was sitting on. I scrambled with my arms behind me to push myself back up and fight back.

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

It didn't work. I wasn't strong enough or the rock wasn't heavy enough. It knocked Yttria off her seat, but she was still in the fight. As she started to get up, she screamed.

_Nonononono no noise no noise_

I picked up another rock and threw it at her face. When she crossed her arms in front of her head to defend herself, I jumped the last few feet between us and landed with one knee on her chest. Her scream ended in a rush of air. She reeled and her face went tight with pain. Before she could recover I picked up one of the rocks that had hit her and smashed it into her face.

_Stop making noise just be quiet_

I hit her in the side of the head and again in her face. She fell quiet. The moment after I realized it, there was another noise behind me, amplified by my earpiece. I looked up from Yttria for an instant of belated horror.

* * *

Jezzebell Fern- District Seven female

Yttria's scream yanked me out of the pathetic excuse for sleep we could reach in the Arena. I wasn't aware I was rising before I was already up and running.

Yttria was on the ground. Another girl was on top of her, beating her with a rock. There hadn't been a cannon yet. There was time. But that wasn't what I was thinking as I closed the short distance between us. I was thinking about how I was going to kill the girl who hurt my friend.

* * *

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

A fist hit my jaw so forcefully I was almost airborn. I landed twisted a foot from Yttria and skidded across the dirt on my side, wondering what the cracking noise had been I rolled over to get on my hands and knees to rise.

The girl from Seven's boot hit me in my lower arm. Two of my fingers snapped like pencils and I felt them bending limply around her strike. The force reverberated through my arm as I fell back on my stomach.

Another scream rent the air, this one furious. The screaming girl kicked me again. There was a sound like a popping seal and everything flickered around me when the boot hit my temple. My head snapped back and my surroundings reeled crazily and then blurred into slow motion. My cheek was pressed against the dirt, though I didn't remember getting there.

It looked like two girls were standing near me. It looked like six girls were standing near me, but four of them were translucent and flanked the two more solid girls. There was pressure at the back of my head, and then I was rising, a dull pain nagging at my scalp. The pressure released and my face fell hard onto a rock.

_I never wanted it to be like this_. I used to play hide-and-seek with the others in the fields. The fields were sunlit and open, not dark and cold and closed. I wasn't the one that wanted something like this.

Something like a hammer hit the back of my head. It must have split it open like a melon.

* * *

Yttria Noxus- District Three female

"Yttria! Yttria!" Jezzebell was calling. I couldn't see her. I was tugging free of my body. There was nothing alarming about that. I simply didn't need it anymore.

It was quiet. Then another voice.

"She's dying," Paloma said.

"What do we do?" Jezzebell said.

"I heard they can hear us, right up until they die," Paloma said quietly.

"I killed her, you hear me? I killed her dead," Jezzebell said.

"You told us you wanted one of us to win," Paloma said. "We'll try."

"No one's killing me," Jezzebell said. And that was what I left with, since someone very much had killed me.

* * *

**9th place: Visenya Lloyd- curb-stomped by Jezzebell**

**Visenya and Linden were a pair but they were never absorbed into each other. What they had was more a business contract than anything else. It was cool how they were friends but never lovers, ignoring the cliche about same-sex friendship being impossible. Visenya was the more compassionate and philanthropic of the pair. Still, she also had her own difficulties relating and finding her place. She made it a long time by using the Capitol to her advantage, but this time she took a gamble and lost. Thanks CarlpoppaLOL for the second half of a great pair.**

**8th place: Yttria Noxus- Beaten to death by Visenya**

**This wasn't an ideal Arena for Yttria. In an urban one she would have had a lot more opportunities. But even here she didn't slow down. She was planning and analyzing all the way, from her burgeoning ambush to her part in the successful scheme to harvest the mutt's flesh. She only died here because I had to keep winnowing those numbers down. She was a possible winner. This just wasn't the one where she won, like when Dr. Strange looked out at the branching timelines. Thanks LordShiro for clever, independent Yttria.**

**Okay it was more a rock stomp but Jezzebell's form said it would be super cool if she curb-stomped someone and that WOULD be super cool so I made do.**


	46. Anticipation

YTTRIA NOXUS- Jezzebell Fern

_What a stupid, unfair waste_. Yttria was smarter than anyone in the Capitol and worth more than all of them put together. What a stupid waste that she was murdered by a stupid girl who snuck up like a coward. I wasn't the least bit sorry I killed her. I was only sorry I broke my finger punching her.

* * *

Gidget Ford- District Three mentor

It got harder every year. For most mentors it got easier, but not for me. It got harder every year they grew closer in age to my children.

* * *

District Three

Mrs. and Mr. Noxus doubled down on Beryllium, their remaining hope for a scientist progeny. He doubled down on his studies trying to please them. The Keyes, ironically, handled things in a much more logical fashion. They buried their son, mourned him, and eventually had the strength to give many of his things to children who otherwise wouldn't have had them.

* * *

VISENYA LLOYD- Paloma Bennett

_There but for the grace of god go I._  
It wasn't something people said in public anymore, but the meaning still rang true. Visenya did something very similar to what I did: she decided she had the power to decide who lived and who died. It wasn't really the same, of course. She deliberately killed Yttria while I stood by as Othella died so Yttria could live. It all came out in the end though, didn't it? I let Othella die to save Yttriaand Yttria was dead now, too.

* * *

Nassor Doyle- District Nine mentor

Visenya could have done it. If she had, I wouldn't have held what she did against her. I did the same against my own District partner. We were the final two, but that excuse never held water with me. Nine didn't blame me for it, but I held that burden to myself. And Porter couldn't run from what he couldn't see.

* * *

District Nine

The children played hide-and-seek. They knew Visenya wasn't with them. They didn't know the meaning it had gained for her. A lot of girls missed Porter for a long time. Not out of sentimental romance. Quite the opposite- they missed someone who treated them like people.

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

There was meaning in everything Elissa did. I always used to ask her about her beliefs and get her to talk about them. I pretended I was just curious and my scientific mind wanted to know more. I did want to know more, but not because I had scholarly curiosity about religion in a forcibly secular nation. I wanted to know because I wanted to believe.

Elissa drew a circle on the ground and added two curving lines that mirrored each other coming out of it. Inside the circle she put a tin cup, a sword, an instruction sheet from a ready-meal pack, and some wire she bent into a softly pointed oval. Around the drawn design we placed the five kerosene lanterns we had, leaving one in its glass casing and taking the others out. By her side she placed a tin plate and a hammer.

"What's all of it mean?" I asked. I knew we were doing a ritual meant to show care for Asuir and supplicate one or more of his ahuras for a request, but not what the items entailed.

"The circle and lines is the shape of a traditional altar. I didn't have a real one, so I drew it. It's not important, all the details. Asuir cares more about trying than how exact you are," Elissa said.

She pointed to one item after another. "The lanterns are candles. There's supposed to be all black candles except one white one, so that's the white one," she said of the one still cased in glass. "It's for destruction. The sword is because we're specifically supplicating Huyk. It can be anything that seems like her, but mostly people use knives and stuff since she likes fighting. The cup is for drinking ceremonial water, though for us it's just normal water. The paper is for writing our requests."

"What's the wire for?" I asked.

Even in the dark I could tell Elissa was shy. "It's... for fertility. There's one in every ritual. I don't know why." I looked at its shape and it came to me.

Elissa picked up the plate and hit it nine times with the hammer to make gonging noises. She picked up the cup, sipped out of it, and passed it to me. It was the first time I'd really participated meaningfully in one of her rituals. _What's the harm?_ I told myself. _It's just a ritual. Either it means something and I was right or it's nothing and no harm done._

It wasn't as simple as that. Watching Elissa go through the steps with such reverential care, from touching the tip of the sword and then her forehead to waving her hand in a circle over the altar, made me long for something more. _Let there be meaning. Let us be more than just cells and tissue._ Human minds were so complex. We could think, and think about thinking, and think about things outside ourselves. We connected and built things that lived past ourselves. How could it be that we were just accidents with no meaning? Let there be meaning.

Elissa wrote something on the backside of the paper with the charcoal sticks we'd burned earlier out of some extra arrows. She handed me the paper.

"We throw it in the fire after we write the requests. You can do that right after you write yours," she said, giving me an out in case my request was private. The way she told it, Asuir didn't usually directly involve himself in human life. He worked subtly and sometimes in a roundabout fashion. He did respect his creations, though, and he took their opinions into account. Supplication wasn't a free ride to anything we asked for, but it did make a difference.

I looked at the paper. _Good day, Huyk! We're going to fight Jezzebell and Paloma pretty soon. If you don't have other ideas, please make it so we win and don't get hurt. Also make it so Jezzebell and Paloma don't die painfully. Your devoted friend, Elissa._

I followed her lead as I added my own request. A chill went through me as I imagined if it could really be that my words were going up to some higher thing outside what we thought we knew about reality.

_Good day, Asuir. I don't know if you're real. I think I might think you are. If you are, please if me and Elissa die, we incarnate, right? Please incarnate us close to each other. I want to know her still. Your acquaintance, Grande._

I threw the paper into the fire. The words went somewhere.

* * *

**Just one POV this time. It's extra long because it kind of encompasses Grande AND Elissa. I still only credited him, though, so she'll get her own POV soon. **


	47. Kill Me First I'll Kill You Last

Paloma Bennett- District Ten female

_How does it not bother her?_

Jezzebell was completely unaffected by what she'd done to Yttria. Not that she'd done anything bad- she was acting to defend us against someone who was actively killing an ally. But she killed someone. She stomped Visenya's head into the ground until it made the sound of porcelain trod on by an ox. Even if it wasn't wrong, that would be something that haunted me. Jezzebell was only grieved that it wasn't enough to save Yttria. She didn't even have guilt, exactly, over that. She regretted that we weren't fast enough to save her, but she accepted that we'd done all we could and it wasn't our fault.

"Ugh," Jezzebell growled, fiddling with her hand. We'd done our best to make something like a splint with what we had. Her middle finger was held out almost straight, which was pretty much appropriate for Jezzebell. It was driving her crazy to be constrained like that. She looked so unaware. She was just peacefully complaining about her finger. I was about to change everything. It had weighed on my heart ever since it happened, and I was going to let it out.

"Jezzebell," I said. I wished for all the world that I was saying anything else. "I've done something very bad."

She looked up, about to say something flippant, and saw my face. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Before, when the mutt attacked us. It got Othella while we were helping Yttria," I said.

Jezzebell looked at the ground. I could see the memories in her eyes. "Yeah," she breathed.

"I saw it get her. I was holding on to her," I started. I thought it would get harder to talk, but it got easier. Like a popped plug, the words poured out of me. "I let her go. I let her go. I couldn't hold her on my own and I let her go to help Yttria."

Jezzebell didn't say a word as she came toward me. She sat next to me and grabbed me close. We sat for a moment, swaying slightly like when we were little and our mothers rocked us.

"Sometimes you can't," she said.

* * *

Elissa de Angelo- District One female

We'd spent two days looking for Jezzebell and Paloma. Caverns and tunnels blurred into each other. We scratched marks on the wall to signal where we'd gone before, but it wasn't foolproof. It only made a difference if they weren't moving.

It was an echo that finally did it. We couldn't tell what the words were, but the timbre of the noise was unmistakable human. The faintest whisper of human speech was coming from down a tunnel. Grande and I looked at each other, then started down.

At the corner of the tunnel, I peeked around. When I saw it, I shrank back and crouched down. Jezzebell and Paloma were right in front of us in the middle of a huge cavern. They looked like they'd just broken out of a hug. One was facing us, one was facing away. It was too dark to tell who was who. As Grande drew his sword behind me, I threw a knife.

* * *

Jezzebell Fern- District Seven female

Paloma hadn't let go of Othella. She'd been bearing her full weight ever since that moment. But Othella was dead. She wasn't hurting anymore. The only one hurting was Paloma, and I hoped she could let go someday.

I sat back and tried to think of how to say that. Paloma leaned forward. She took in a breath. It hitched up in a whistle. She coughed, but it cut off halfway. She fell sideways and I saw Elissa behind her, aiming another knife. Grande was right behind her.

I threw myself down and Elissa's knife flew over my head. I picked up a rock and threw it in her direction without taking the time to aim specifically. The tennis ball-sized rock hit her in the hip. She grunted and put her hand to the wound. It slowed her for the moment, but Grande was still coming. I felt around and found the bottle we'd been sponsored.

_No better time, I guess,_ I thought as I yanked at the abrasive strip that ignited the wick. _It's finally time to let it burn._

Grande was only a few steps away when I threw. The bottle hit him straight in the face and exploded. Glass flew everywhere, from his face to my crossed arms. The sheet of alcohol that sprayed over him ignited immediately. I was treated to the sight of his head in flames and the sound of his screaming before he dropped and started rolling.

Elissa jumped over Grande and threw another knife at me. I got my arm up and caught it there instead of my chest. She reached me and grabbed my shoulder and my hip. With a practiced flourish, she threw me to the ground. I tore the knife from my arm and stabbed her in the leg with it. At the same time, she stabbed me in the neck. I shoved my knife in deeper until it tore out the other side of the flesh it had lacerated. As the last of my blood left me, I wrapped myself around her leg and bit out a chunk of flesh. As I died, I was treated to the sound of Grande _and_ Elissa screaming.

* * *

Paloma Bennett- District Ten female

I pawed around with my arm bent behind my back. I couldn't reach the knife, not that it mattered. The real damage was inside. I couldn't breathe through all the blood in my lung. Whenever my chest heaved and tried to take in air, fluid gurgled and bubbled up inside of me. I could hear the tortured noises of my own death.

Grande was screaming. Of course Jezzebell was giving them hell. Then Elissa was screaming too. Jezzebell was probably in no great shape herself, but I never heard her scream.

In a flash, I saw Verlynne in my place. In the horrors of the Arena, I'd forgotten my life before. I'd forgotten how I was only here because I wouldn't let her take my place. My big sister was safe now, and would never be Reaped. Like a bird lifting off, the guilt left me. I hadn't saved Othella, but I'd saved Verlynne. Verlynn and Yttria. One life I lost, two I saved. More than enough.

* * *

**7th place: Paloma Bennett- knife thrown by Elissa**

**Paloma grew. That was pretty much her thing. She aged, you might say. She went from a little sister to probably the most adult Tribute remaining once Donnatella was gone. She made the choice to lose one life to save another and after confronting that level of morality, she couldn't go back to being a kid. She acted above her age the entire time, from putting her sister's life before her own to recognizing that cold realities sometimes leave no room for sentiment. She bore more weight than anyone should have to, and as is usually the case, she didn't deserve any of it. But she came out ahead in the end. Thanks Daughteroftheonetrueking for Paloma, whose kill/death ratio was on point.  
**

**6th place: Jezzebell Fern- stabbed by Elissa**

**Jezzebell lived and died hard. She came into this knowing she would probably die but never letting that stop her. She chomped a hole in Elissa and lit Grande on fire. So literally pyrrhic victory there. Characters like her tend to be agents of chaos more often than they're Victors, and she lived up to that. Thanks Tinks for a candle that burned twice as bright for half as long.**

**ATTENTION: CarlpoppaLOL has a new SYOT seeking Tributes! Submit some so I can read about my submission! s/13476814/1/Requiem-125th-Hunger-Games**


	48. One, Two, Freddy's Coming For You

PALOMA BENNETT- Gavin Booth  
Of course it wasn't. I knew how stupid it was to hope the two cannons were Caio and whichever one he killed before the other killed him. But I'd still hoped. Just like the rest of us still went on even though all three Careers were left. It would have been nice to have known Paloma better. We spent our entire lives in the same place and before the Reaping I didn't even know her name. She deserved better than that.

* * *

JEZZEBELL FERN- Grande St. Leger  
My life was snapped into two sections: before I burned and after. Nothing in the eighteen years I'd been alive was the slightest approximation of how much it hurt to burn. If the fire hadn't gone out nearly instants after I started to roll, I would have cut my own throat. I wouldn't do that to someone else even if it was what would win me the Games. Jezzebell marked me body and soul.

* * *

Hades Rodriguez- District Seven mentor  
I was just a kid. They thought I could teach people how to win the Games. I was a scared kid who hid in a refridgerator until everyone else died. I didn't know anything about winning the Games. One look at my track record proved that.

* * *

District Seven  
Two more gravestones stood in a toy- and flower-riddled part of the cemetery. Parents grieved and friends mourned. And a single one-eared man breathed a little easier.

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

Grande. Elissa. Caio. Meenah. And me. Three of those made sense. I kept running through the names in my head, going through the Districts in order and coming up with the same number. Five of us left. One of them was me.

I had no idea. If I was being honest, I never thought I'd get this far. I really had no business being here. People like the Careers had the skills. People like Jezzebell or Yttria had the talent. To be dark about it, Enzo deserved it more than me. He seized his destiny in his own hands and proactively did what he needed to in order to survive. I just lagged behind him and whined about how immoral it was while I benefited from what I condemned.

Enzo might not be entirely to blame, either. I was self-aware enough to know I was charming and also self-aware enough to know I used it. Did I encourage him, spur him on a little? When I constantly held him back, was it entirely because I disapproved, or did part of me want to play the "soft" one so he would be driven to be the "hard" one? I didn't stop him from killing Seychelle. When it came down to it, I helped him. But I didn't make the first move. He did that. A bit of me thought I did it so I could say it wasn't my idea, without it being not my idea, not entirely. Enzo had the guts to do it to someone's face. I tried to say I was noble.

I flinched and dove flat on the ground when I heard a noise. As I twisted to get up, I saw the movement in the cave ceiling. It was just a sponsor gift. No, not just a sponsor gift. A sponsor gift.

There was no need to guess what was in the capsule. A parachute was attached to a metal thermos. I twisted it open and water sloshed around inside. Such a simple gift, and probably not too expensive, since the cave had water. But a beautiful gift. Water that didn't taste like rocks. Water with no silt and crunchy bits in it. Water I didn't have to spend half an hour with my cheek to the wall to drink. Being in the Arena reduced me to my most physical self. I was a human, stripped down to muscle and tissue and bone. Water was the thing I treasured more than anything else in the world.

"Thank you," I said to whoever sent it. Someone out there disagreed with me. Winnowing down the numbers had made me conversely less confident. The most competent among us, in one skill or another, would win. It would descend from there. I couldn't believe I was in the top eight most resilient. With each death that passed I was surer that I wouldn't last one more rank. Top four? Not me. But someone thought otherwise. They thought it enough to spend money on it. And in this world, that was the greatest confidence.

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

My skin writhed and curdled tight on my skull. I felt my pulse pricking it from the inside. I was laid bare. The layer that once protected my viscera from exposure was seared to a thin, smooth sheet of paper. My fingers hovered by my face. I knew any touch would be agonizing, but even the air was excruciating against it.

Elissa dove for something and scrabbled on the ground. I saw it, because I couldn't close my eyes. I couldn't close my eyes because the scraping of my seared eyelids was unbearable. It would have caused more tears to add to the ones already scraping down my face and leaving a trail of salt.

She shoved her hand at my face. I screamed and jerked back, but I couldn't avoid her. Her hand oozed sideways across me and instead of the torture I'd expected, she left nothingness in her wake. Only then did I notice the white cream on her hand.

I snatched her hand in both of mine and yanked it to my face. I clung to her as she spread the cream onto me. I sobbed into her hand at the relief it brought. I sat with one hand hovering in the air before my face, suspended in the air between reassurance and trepidation.

_Whoever sent this, I will find them. I will give them anything they want. Half my fortune for the person who did this for me._ Waves of gratitude crashed through me over and over. I sat shaking all over at the mere absence of pain.

"It says, 'topical analgesic and antiseptic'," Elissa read off the tube from the sponsor package. "So it won't actually heal you. We'll have to go back to the Cornucopia and regroup."

"That's fine," I said. _That's fine, that's fine, let's go back and that's fine let's just sit for a bit._ Since I came to the Arena, it seemed like my self-preservation had shoved down my anxiety more than medication or therapy ever could. But it wasn't something that would ever leave me. It was like a stalking wolf that might be held at bay for a while by some fortuitous carrion, but would never stop chasing its prey. It was clawing for a grip inside of me. It wanted to feel that shortening of breath, that clamminess in my skin, the voice in my head shrieking that I was dying, the panicking, racing thoughts that changed me from a poised Career to a hyperventilating victim. My stomach heaved with the nausea brought up by my shallow breaths.

"Are you getting bad?" Elissa said. It was our code for a panic attack. It hardly ever happened anymore. I'd learned a lot of wonderful things from Dr. Splendor. But it was hardly a panic attack, really. Panic attacks were disordered thinking. It was hardly at all disordered to be upset by my face being set on fire.

"Let's just go back the Cornucopia," I said. "Just go back and sit a while. It'll be okay then."

We started walking._ Take a step_, I intoned with each step. _Breathe in. Take a step. It's okay to be scared, but a lot of good stuff has happened. Paloma and Jezzebell are gone. The strongest remaining alliance is gone. It's just Meenah and Gavin now. Meenah, Gavin, and Caio. take a step. Get back to the Cornucopia. Breathe slow and take a step._

* * *

**No deaths this time, to draw out the ending and give everyone extra moments to make it harder to tell who's going to win!**


	49. Recovery

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

_"Hey, Tapey. I'm going to pretend you're real, okay? I know you're not. You're just a tape recorder. I just..."_ My voice caught on the whisper. I tapped Tapey on my cheek and reeled the emotions back in as they tried to seep out of me. _"I really want someone to talk to. I want something to be normal again."_

_"I don't even know what I am anymore. I don't know how long I've been down here. I just know everything is dark and hard and wrong. I'm still alive. I've done so much to stay alive. Oh gosh, when I think about it, it can't be real. People don't live like this. I've lived for weeks crawling on my hands and knees through tunnels like a worm burrowing in and out of a body. I don't feel human. Everything is just a series of what horrible thing I'll have to do next if I want to survive another few hours. I eat bugs. I eat bugs off a dead person's face. How much of Atticus' face have I eaten through them? _Sobs started to break through my words._ This isn't living."_

_"I used to think about my future. What I wanted to do when I grew up. I wanted to do something big. I never even thought about what that was, exactly. It was this big, wide possibility stretching out before me, because that's how kids think. The future is open. The future is big. Now I don't think about the future. The world is as small as the tunnel around me scraping the back of my head. All I think about is the next time I'll need to go back to Atticus to eat. About how I'll hide myself for the next few minutes and whether the area around me is free of Careers. People think about the future. Animals think about the present."_

_"Tell me it's okay, Tapey. All the things I did. The way I'm living. That it's going to be better someday. Sometimes it feels like I can't even think. I try to picture something like the sun and my mind goes all floppy. I'm losing my mind. It's dripping away, like a bucket with a little crack, just a little crack but still a crack. My skin looks green through the glasses. I think if I ever saw it again in a mirror, I wouldn't recognize me. Tell me it's okay."_

I pressed the rewind button on Tapey. I refined the motion until I reached the point I wanted. I hit play.

"It's okay."

Rewind.

"It's okay."

_"Tell me I'll do something big someday."_

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

_I am unbroken._

I stood leaned to one side. One leg was bent, sparing it from the weight that would pain the still-healing hole where the mutt punched through me. But I stood. I was not nor would I ever be defeated.

I had lost a battle. Many great men had. And a great man learned from it and came back better. As a sword was forged by layers and layers of steel hammered flat, ironing out impurities and forging the blade from the assimilation of each of them, I was refined by my mistakes. The very Arena around me was powerful. I would do better to learn from it.

Gavin and Meenah were the two non-volunteers left. They had found something or learned something about their surroundings and were using them as a weapon I had until now lacked. Throughout history, the greatest enemy of the warlords I aspired to join had been the guerrille fighter. Even a lion can be killed by the viper that strikes in the darkness. Where the warlord bends his environment to his will, the guerrilla bends to his environment. How much greater a fighter I could be with the training of a warlord and the cunning of a guerrilla.

It had been two days since Grande and Elissa returned from their battle with Jezzebell and Paloma. They licked their wounds as I licked mine. They left to hunt, Elissa limping as I limped and Grande still moving stiffly as his newly-formed skin stretched tight. I could not say for sure, but if the scars looked the same as they did in the darkness, he would have a warrior's tale to tell his women. I left while they were gone. I would not be returning. Let those of us who died before we met again simplify things and let those who lived give their best.

My steps grew in strength as I hunted. Medicine and splints were valuable, but nothing was better to heal than to get the blood flowing and show your body that your will held dominion. And when I saw the tunnels and it all clicked together, I felt like a new man. They were tiny things. I would have to crawl on my belly to scrape into them. They were no place for a proud Career. But they were the very place for an outlier.

The worries and lack of confidence that plagued me after the battle with the mutt wicked away as I crawled down the first of the tunnels. I was coming for all who remained. I was not finished. There was too much life I had left to experience. There were parades to be held in my honor and women to excite with my exploits and skills. I would endure the mud smearing at my shirt and the confines of a coffinnish tunnel for what lay at the other side. Forever I would be unbroken.

* * *

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

What a cruel mercy on the part of the Gamemakers to make the walls of the caves always damp with tiny trickling streams. They gave us water because to cut us off would deny them their bloodshed. It wasn't enough for them to watch children convulsing on the ground as lack of water starved their cells. They needed to see the blood spilled.

Back when I played in Ten, all the super-athletic kids, the ones aiming for one of maybe three spots nationwide for vacancies in Capitolite sports teams, always harped about hydration. "Half your body weight in ounces!" they'd say. "Two gallons daily!" others insisted. I sometimes tried to live up to it and ended up forcing myself to drink constantly. Even then I would barely scrape the minimum of what they were saying. Here I drank a few of my bottles a day. Sometimes only two. I didn't seem to have any ill effects from it. Or maybe I just wasn't noticing them.

As I walked around a bend in the tunnel, screwing on the cap to my bottle, I bumped into someone. We both jumped back, and I caught a glimpse of an arrow blurring with movement. My body reacted quicker than my brain could think. Can't hit me with an arrow, it decided, if I'm too close for you to shoot it. I tackled her. The arrow pricked into me as we fell but lacked the velocity to be more than a scratch. She screamed as we hit the ground. It was then I realized that I had a tiger in a bear hug.

I might have been on top, but Elissa was the better fighter. She shoved the heel of her palm into my chin. I bit my tongue so hard I felt a chunk fly off. What Elissa had in training I tried to match in strength. I punched her in the nose. She gasped and shook tears out of her eyes. She hooked her leg around mine and did a flip move I couldn't follow. She followed it up with a crotch shot that left me feeling like I'd been electrocuted. She tried to go in for a choke hold and I only got out of it, I was sure, because I moved so unpredictably I didn't do the counter move she had to have been expecting. I head-butted her and shoved her shoulder in one movement. She fell off me sideways. I jumped on top of her. I didn't know if it would work, but my plan was to get an elbow across her neck and put all my weight on it.

Blood sprayed across her chest and neck. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. I hadn't felt the sword going in. I only felt it as it tore back out. I hadn't even heard Grande's footsteps.

My breaths came shallow and odd, like my lungs were inflating sideways. I lay panting on the ground as Grande helped Elissa up. I hadn't thought I'd win. It wasn't a fair fight between me and someone with Elissa's training. But I'd tried. I hadn't laid down and died. It wasn't fair this happened. I wouldn't have hurt anyone. They could have just let me live. Such a fragile government if they think a boy is dangerous.

* * *

**5th place: Gavin Booth- Stabbed by Grande**

**Gavin was a funny case that happens sometimes in my stories. I noticed a while ago that he was the only outlier male left and there were a lot of girls. I didn't set out for that to happen, but once I noticed it I felt unbalanced killing him, so he lived a lot longer than he might have. I never had any big plans for him to last a long time. I just thought he'd die along the way eventually. Now that we're in the top five I felt fair killing him. Even though it was by accident, Gavin grew a lot in the time I had to keep him. He changed more than most of the Tributes and was more self-aware than a lot of them. He was the moral center of the story sometimes. He cared about the others and thought about what was right and not just what was good for his survival. So thanks submitter for a Tribute who showed athletes aren't just jocks. They're people as deep as anyone.  
**

**Top four wooooo.**


	50. Four Little Kittens

**So the real book is "Ten Little..." well, you know. I obviously wasn't naming the chapter that. The bowdlerized version is "Ten Little Indians", which still isn't ideal. But I had this picture book based on that called "Ten Little Kittens". Nothing offensive about kittens.**

* * *

GAVIN BOOTH- Meenah Turbine  
I knew it before I saw the face. But still, when I saw it, my heart sank. Until I saw Gavin, I could pretend he was still in this with me. That there were still two of us that had survived the Careers. It was just them and me now. Three Careers, converging on me like wolves on a baby deer.

* * *

Calvary Warsaw- District Ten mentor  
Why did Paloma have to be so much like me? She had more tact and was a better friend, but she fought like I did. She was one of the one that could have made it. So much of the Games came down to luck. That was why I could never hope until I saw it happen.

* * *

Bambi Kirkland- District Ten mentor  
Why did Gavin have to be so much like me? He was one of the ones that didn't push away thought of the value of life. He saw the damage the Games did to people and cared about people other than himself. Now that he was dead, I wished it had happened earlier.

* * *

District Ten  
Usually we didn't make it this far. We would have thought Paloma would outlive Gavin, but so many times it was just a matter of who the Careers happened to find first. We mourned a little longer that year, having come so close.

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

The Arena was starting to get to me. It just wasn't right. People weren't meant to live like this. I knew enough about pyschology to know that darkness wasn't good for humans. We were meant for the sun. We even got nourishment from it. Plants can't live without sun and people can't forever either. It was hard to sleep, and to know if I'd slept. If it wasn't for the Anthem, I would have no idea how long it had been. It had been two and a half weeks. A lot could happen to a mind in two and a half weeks.

It wasn't big changes. What most people thought of when they pictured mental illness was a few big-ticket disorders like paranoia or psychosis. It wasn't that kind of full-force attack. It was the steady water torture of a thousand little droplets. I was jumpier than I should have been. Little noises had me tensing for a fight that never came. I was short-tempered. Elissa had let me know about that one. She was short-tempered enough herself to actually speak up and tell me when I was being obnoxious, but that particular symptom wasn't affecting her as bad. She seemed to be more morose. Rather than fraying out like I was, she was smoldering down. But we were both getting nearer to our limit.

No matter. We just had to get rid of Meenah and the end would come quickly. Whether we killed her or Caio did, he wouldn't drag it out. He would search for us and get the finale started as quickly as he could. He was a warrior, not a lurker. I only feared that he was pragmatic enough to try to pick one of us off so he could have a one-on-one fight. But we'd deal with that when we came to it. It wouldn't be long coming.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

The beam of my heavy metal flashlight sent a merry little circle of light onto the wall of the cave. Every time I went out to get water, it was a tossup between the danger of using my light to find the biggest trickles and the danger of staying out far longer if I just picked a random spot. Usually I picked the flashlight. While strategy was a consideration, to be honest I did it because I loved being able to take off my glasses and actually see actual light. It was like that military-style metal flashlight imprisoned a tiny little fairy and turning it on let her light burst out. Sometimes I cried while I was getting water.

Before, I wouldn't have heard the nearly silent sound of a pebble rolling. I snapped the flashlight off and fumbled for my glasses. In the instant it took to find them and put them on, I feared it was too late. I peeked around the rock I was leaning against and saw Grande and Elissa at the end of the tunnel. My eyes flicked down the corridor. My tunnel was too far to reach before they would catch me. I huddled with my side to the rock and made myself as small as I could. Maybe they'd go the other way. Maybe they wouldn't.

* * *

Elisse de Angelo- District One female

The tunnel split off in a T-shape, giving us two tunnels to explore. Grande turned left and I turned right. There didn't seem to be anything in the tunnel. I could see all the way down to where the corridor ended, and there was nothing but a few rocks and some little holes in the wall. But holes in the wall were exactly where a Tribute would hide, I suppose.

I looked behind me and saw Grande poking around the entrance to a hole a few feet off the ground. I took a few steps down the tunnel and peered at the walls to make out any tunnels I might have missed from farther away.

_Eh, I don't think there's anything here_, I thought. I looked behind me again and saw Grande a little further away. It wasn't smart for us to be more than a very short distance apart, not with Caio lurking somewhere. _Yeah, I think we're good. Wait, you know what? Let me just look behind that rock there. Then I'll get back to Grande._

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

The footsteps were coming closer. I didn't dare look around the rock. I could only listen and judge how much louder and closer the Career was coming. _Turn around_, I prayed._ There's nothing in this tunnel. Please turn around._ I clutched the flashlight to my chest just to have something for my hands to clench. I stopped breathing. I was terrified I would make some little whimper or squeak and that would be it.

I saw the movement as the figure crested the side of the rock. In less than an instant, the Career would see me. It was my body and not my mind that acted. It knew it was nothing but a desperate last gasp, but life doesn't let go even when it knows it's over. I aimed the flashlight at the figure and closed my eyes as I snapped it on.

* * *

Elissa de Angelo- District One female

A flash of screaming, blinding light shot into my face like I'd stared straight into the sun. I screamed and jerked my head down into my eyes. It was like the flash guns Peacekeepers used when they were feeling merciful. I saw now they might be non-lethal but they weren't non-painful. Stabbing pain wracked my eyes and head and I was totally disoriented. I couldn't even have said which direction was up. Another pain like the strike of a baseball bat bloomed in the right side of my head. There was pressure and moisture against my cheek.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

I swung the flashlight like a club and hit Elissa while she was still blind. She fell and landed hard on the rock floor. I ran before she could get up. Grande could have reached me before I got to my tunnel, but he stopped to help Elissa. Before I ducked into the tunnel, I looked back and saw him holding her. Her legs were flopping and kicking against the ground. I couldn't see what her head looked like.

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

The sound of the hit ricocheted off the cave walls. It was like a bat hitting a baseball. My first thought was that Caio had somehow snuck in and attacked Elissa. While I was turning around, another noise followed the first. My eyes fell on Elissa, who was lying on the ground halfway down the corridor. Beyond her, Meenah was sprinting toward the end of the tunnel.

I saw her, but Meenah didn't enter my mind. I vaulted down the corridor toward Elissa. She wasn't getting up. In the darkness I couldn't tell if the ground around her shone with moisture or blood, but she wasn't getting up. One of her legs kicked when I was almost to her. It was a reflexive, spastic movement.

I knelt by Elissa and bent over her. Her right temple was bleeding. Her right temple, the one that had hit the ground, was bent inward. Her eyes were open but unfocused. Through the night-vision goggles, they looked like glittering glass eyes.

"No, no, no," I started saying. A dozen things ran through my head, from not moving people who might have serious injuries to how critically someone was hurt if they couldn't focus their eyes.

Elissa started to convulse. A trail of colorless liquid trickled from her upturned ear. Foam bubbled from her lips and down her chin.

"Oh god no oh god Elissa no," I moaned. I grabbed her around the shoulders and pulled her tight to my chest. She shook in my arms. I started to wail.

* * *

Elissa de Angelo-District One female

I wasn't connected to my body anymore. It was falling apart around me. My arms and legs, once the tools I used to impose my will on the world, were severed from me. I was a passenger and no longer the pilot.

I could feel Grande holding me. He was shaking just like I was. I didn't know what had been damaged when the flashlight hit my head and then I fell full force against the stone ground. I could only feel the effects.

_Grande_, I wanted to tell him. _It's okay. Don't be sad. It's just one life. There are infinite more_. But I couldn't tell him. I couldn't make my body do anything.

My limbs fell still around me. I felt the soul that had been trapped begin to slip through the ruined body so it could fly away. In that moment, my body obeyed me.

"I will accomplish what I first begin," I whispered to Grande. And I left this incarnation behind.

* * *

**4th place: Elissa de Angelo- TBI caused by Meenah's flashlight and hitting the ground**

**Night-vision goggles enhance very small amounts of light by a lot (at least these ones do). So if there actually IS a lot of light, bad things happen. This is why we get warned in the Marines about aiming our night vision goggles away from light sources. I had this sort of thing planned for a long time and it was just a matter of which outlier would do it and to which Career. Meenah had a flashlight from earlier and Elissa was the unlikelier to win between her and Grande. It's not often I get religious Tributes. Elissa is the first to have an original religion. I had a lot of fun making it up and might reuse it if I ever need a religion for an original book. Elissa was spacey for a Career, which was interesting. She was also probably the deadliest Tribute, with four kills. She was loyal to both her friends and her principles and would have been an unconventional Career Victor had she won. Thanks JAJ for a Career that shows they do have moral codes, just not the normal one.**


	51. Snack Break

ELISSA DE ANGELO- Grande St. Leger

She believed she would keep going when she died. When I saw her for the last time, it was the first time I truly believed it. I couldn't imagine a world where a soul like that could cease to be. Elissa was too irreplaceable to be gone. Something like that couldn't begin unless it was endless.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male  
'The absolute madman, he actually did it. When I heard the cannon, of course I assumed it was Meenah. Right away I started plotting how I was going to win against two united Careers. Then "nightfall" came and it was Elissa looking down at me. Grande was a more perilous man than I'd accounted for. I'd never underestimated his skill or danger, but I'd had no idea he was ruthless. Our final battle would be one for the ages.

First it had to begin. There were only three people in an entire Arena. One of them was no doubt hiding in a hole somewhere. Grande was looking for me just as I was looking for him, but the fact remained that there was an entire Arena between us. We wandered for two days and it might have become two weeks had something else not stepped in.

"Good afternoon, Tributes!"

The sound of a human voice and the metallic artificiality of the microphone feedback after so long in stone age loneliness jarred me. I had my spear up and almost threw it before I caught myself.

"There will be a feast at the Cornucopia beginning posthaste. Refreshments will of course be provided and the entertainment will be legendary! I'm sure none of you want to miss out on this."

A smile snaked across my face. For once the Gamemakers did us a favor. The Cornucopia was the one landmark of the Arena. It was the only place they could easily direct me and Grande so we could meet. _Oh, no. I certainly don't want to miss out._

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

My hands looked just like Atticus'. As I lay on my stomach by his desiccating corpse, my hands were indistinguishable from his. I was wasted away, as thin and frail as a bird. It amazed me I didn't feel weaker. The human body can put up with more than anyone can imagine.

Soon I would look even more like Atticus. He had barely any flesh left. A tongueless mouth grinned at me under empty eye sockets. The soft flesh had gone first. Then the insects moved to the firmer meat. He was almost skeletonized now. When the last of him left, so would the insects. Then I would starve.

It crossed my mind that I could have joined them. The insects, I meant. Sometimes when I looked at the shreds of meat left, they looked like jerky. Just beef jerky. The kind of chewy jerky that takes so long to eat you're almost playing with it in your mouth and it's like a toy and a food all at once. I flirted with that line sometimes, but I never really came close to crossing it. I remembered what happened to the other Tribute that did that. It wouldn't have stopped me in the end, though. There would come a day when survival beat out shame and then fear. I didn't think I would live that long.

"Good afternoon, Tributes. There will be a feast at the Cornucopia beginning posthaste. Refreshments will be provided..."

Nothing came to mind. The word food hit my brain and the reaction was visceral but amorphous. Confronted with the possibility, I couldn't think of any food. Just insects and beef jerky.

It made no difference. I wasn't going. It wasn't meant for me. it was to bring Grande and Caio together so they could fight. One would die and the other would come for me.

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

I was the first to reach the Cornucopia. Ornate wooden banquet tables had been added before our arrival. A tablecloth woven with fiber-optic lights was draped over it, casting enough light to illuminate the contents. It was an elegant spread with three settings, though everyone involved must have known Meenah would not be attending. Platters and vessels for dozens of luxurious dishes sat on the cloth.

Not ten minutes later, I heard the sounds of Caio approaching. I wasn't surprised, coincidental though it seemed. I knew the Gamemakers had waited until we were nearly the same distance away in order to stir up their drama.

Caio bowed theatrically when he came into range of the lit tablecloth. "My old friend Grande," he greeted me. He strode to the opposite end of the table and stood by one of the intricately carved chairs. "We will fight, I am sure. But first, let us eat. It would be a shame to let this bounty go cold."

He really meant it. If I knew anything about Caio, it was that he was a sensualist. It would be a crime in his eyes to spoil luxuries because we were impatient. I also knew that his sensuality bled into his achievements as well as his indulgences. He wanted to beat me wholly, not by cheap tricks or by surprise. He would not strike until the eating was over and we had by our unspoken bearing signaled that the battle was beginning. And so, as strange as it seemed, I took the seat at the opposite end of the table and we began to eat.

"My condolences on the loss of your District partner," Caio said, his eyes flicking up from his downturned face. "I'm sure it was very difficult."

I'd known he would strike and still it hurt. "It was not by my hand," I said bluntly.

An instant of fear passed over his face, interrupted by amusement he seemed to welcome. "Meenah? I suppose she has lasted this long. I never dreamed of such hidden depths." He toyed with a knife against the tablecloth. "I only wish our group had not been winnowed so prematurely. I would have liked to have faced more of my equals in battle."

Caio did not rush as he luxuriously scooped food from dishes and poured some dark drink from a decanter. The clinking of silverware punctuated the conversation. I might have enjoyed the rich Capitol food if my dinner partner had allowed me some peace.

"It has been a long and dangerous road. Everything we hoped for, I would say. But all things must end. It is time for your last and my last battle, for differing reasons. You will be my proudest kill," Caio said. He sat back on his chair and swept crumbs off the table with his napkin.

"A meal like that is not forgotten," he sighed. He stood and retrieved the spear he'd leaned against his chair. "We have eaten. Now, let us fight."

* * *

**I came into this intending to write the fight but Caio is hella dramatic and dragged it out.**


	52. Form and Function

Caio Sagres- District Two male

Grande and I sidestepped away from the table so it wouldn't be in our way during the fight. He walked plainly, while I threw a little flair into it, twirling my spear and kicking out my legs to get my blood going and my spirits high. I threw up a smile at where I imagined the cameras might be and imagined the crowds at home going wild.

Neither of us wanted to make the first move. When Grande saw I was more than happy to circle around and enjoy the anticipation for an indefinite period, he came in for an exploratory attack. I retreated and we lightly parried, each gauging the other's technique. I hopped lightly from foot to foot to find my rhythm.

"I've come a long way to get here," I said. Bragging came naturally to me. It just sort of flowed out in a running commentary on my life. I wasn't even exactly trying to get into Grande's head. I didn't do it with him in mind. It was something I enjoyed for myself. "I bested the most ambitious fighters in Two, something a One can almost understand." We clashed again. We were still testing and making our plans, so our weapons hit each other and we threw each other away. "I faced a monster ten times what you will be." I slashed so close to his head that his hair was disheveled and thrilled at making the first mark.

"The one that gave you that limp?" Grande fired back. He leaned in closer as we clashed and threw me back with his shoulder.

My foot scraped a cloud of dust as I regained myself. I grinned at him. "Oh, you do hit back."

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

When I started fighting Caio, I felt empty. I'd barely had time to process that Elissa was gone. In the fight, I knew I couldn't be distracted, but the lack of her presence was palpable. We'd fought together for years. Our styles grew into each other until we were entwined like trees linked by a network of vines. It was different not to fight with her. Awkward. It threw me off and I knew Caio would capitalize on that.

I made a mistake early in the fight. Every time Elissa slipped into my head, the pain distracted me. I tried to channel it and the emotion I picked was anger. I made myself angry with Caio and determined to make him pay even though he wasn't the one that killed her. But anger only equaled prowess in stories. In real life it weakened a fighter. And so Caio came close in the first minutes of the fight to killing me. I stopped myself there and redirected.

Caio had a distinct fighting style. It didn't take more than a glance to know he fought viper style. Volunteers learned dozens of disciplines and he probably wasn't specifically fighting kung fu, but the overall attitude of snake style fighting clung to him. Snake fighters moved smoothly and continuously. They were prone to preening as they fought and they would describe it as much a dance as it was a fight. The best counter to the snake was the mantis. The snake moved in large and rapid movements. The mantis was still and maximized force while minimizing movement. The snake retreated, the mantis stood still. Caio was mortal and his body had limits. Let him leap and circle and when at last he slowed, even for an instant, it was the mantis that could snatch that moment.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two mentor

I would not have believed it, but I was starting to admit that Grande was stronger than I was. Our weapons hit again and my knee buckled under the force of his downward strike. I started to dodge aside before he could press his advantage. Instead of going for the killing blow, he took the lesser but more certain tactic of batting me with his arm so I was thrown sideways. Something gave in my shoulder. I wondered by how slender a thread it was held in its socket- I could feel the weakness and slowness when I moved it. I rolled over to get up and was nearly cleaved in half when he ran after me and brought his sword down across my body. I rolled sideways, my feet twirling, and got onto one knee. As he was still raising his sword, I stabbed upward, aiming beneath his ribs. He saw it and pulled back enough to frustrate my aim and instead the spear stuck into him but deflected off his hip bone. He moved with the momentum and the follow-up strike I aimed at his leg as I stood was minimized to a scratch.

Grande was unhindered by his injuries. He carried his momentum through to the last and swung his body around. I was expecting a sword and was blindsided when it was his fist that struck my face so hard I was thrown off my feet and onto my back. There was a pain in my mouth like I'd bitten down on a mouthful of knives as bits of tooth were ground into my lips and tongue by the impact. In a daze I saw Grande running toward me to finish it.

* * *

Grande St. Leger- District One male

Caio was on the ground. And what is a dancer who cannot stand? I took my moment. I brought back my sword to let gravity give it the force to split him from hips to throat. His eyes were dazed as he watched me close on him. He rolled onto his stomach and pushed off with his legs just before I reached. It was a boy's scream that came out when my strike missed the fatality but cut into his thigh until bone jarred my hand.

Once more, I drew back for the final blow. Caio scuttled like a spider on the ground. He curled himself behind me and stabbed his spear into the back of my leg. I felt the tendon snap and at last understood the horror stories other students had told me. My leg dissolved into liquid pain and folded under me like paper.

Caio stumbled backwards to his feet. He leaned cocked to one side as I fell onto my back when my leg refused to hold me even kneeling. It was a man's battle scream that came when Caio took a final running step on his bad leg. He pushed off on his good leg and sprang at me like a spider. His spear hit before his feet, and all his weight was on it. Blood sprayed from my mouth. With it, the life drained out of me. I felt my life spattered on my face and welling up around the spear inside me. I was ruptured, crushed like an egg._ All the king's horses..._ the thought came to mind.

_I will accomplish what I have first begun._ I had embraced Elissa's crazy faith in my last days. But we were not identical. Our paths were different, and even that difference was sublime. _All rivers are different, but all flow to the same sea._ The same sea where Elissa was, having arrived before me and awaiting our reunitement.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

It was not at all what I had imagined. I had gone into the fight expecting a perilous back-and-forth, throughout which I would never lose the upper hand and at the end of which I would triumphantly strike the death blow with a witty and crowning statement. Instead I stood swaying on a leg laid bare like a filleted fish, too weary and pained to think of a sendoff, much less say it. I had not won gloriously, but by the skin of my teeth. My hunt for Meenah had no glory in it. This had been my chance at a battle to boast about. I had merely a battle I had survived.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

The cannon. It didn't matter who had died. Whoever remained was coming for me. They would search every tunnel and they would find me. If they could not, the Capitol would force me out. My time to hide was running out.

The dead thing lay beneath me. Every moment I was aware of the tortured body that lay some fifteen feet below me in the dark. It called me sometimes when I tried to sleep. Not in my ears, but in my soul. And once more I crawled to it.

There was hardly anything left. Just bones and scurrying insects looking for last scraps and an empty set of clothes. A spear far too large and heavy for me to use. I took the spear and broke it just below the point. Once more, I plundered Atticus. With the spear I cut into his clothes. I lay them out in strips and I braided.

* * *

**3rd place: Grande St. Leger- Speared by Caio**

**When Grande was submitted, his "thing" was plainly supposed to be anxiety. And yet, I hardly wrote about that. It was deliberate. Anxiety is part of someone, but it doesn't define them. A person is more than a mental health struggle. Grande's anxious personality made him deliberate, and cautious, and nervous, but other parts of him were independent of it. It wasn't as simple as writing a character who sometimes got scared or had panic attacks. Those things did happen, but organically. There was also his friendship with Elissa to write about, and his ambitions, and his curiosity about religion, and his motivations to volunteer. The readers really liked him, which is why he made it so far, but they liked him for being him and not for being a token neurodivergent character, which was what I hoped more than anything. So thanks for Grande, who would have been a worthy Victor had I chosen that path.  
**

**Fun fact: as I'm sure was apparent to most of you, Caio is inspired by Oberyn from Game of Thrones. This has been interesting for me since I don't watch Game of Thrones (No judgement on those who enjoy it and I get the reasons, but I personally do not watch any media where women get raped. Sort of my meaningless but diehard boycott). However, I watched clips to get the feel of Caio. I procrastinated so long because I didn't know how to write this fight, so Oberyn fans will be glad to see I verbally rotoscoped his fight with the Mountain. It's exact for the first half. Then I added some hits on Grande's side because he was more competent than the Mountain. Then I shifted some things to keep the punch and have that totally wicked impale-jump be the finale. I'm still not watching GOT but Oberyn seems pretty cool. Too bad he died. And I definitely have been hearing all of Caio's lines with that accent.**

**To any Kung Fu practitioners: I did my darndest to find out what styles are vulnerable to other styles but I couldn't find anything on Google. I totally made up the mantis vs. snake thing and sorry if it's wildly inaccurate. I looked at the styles and it seemed to make sense so I picked that.**


	53. HELP

**Guess what? I need help again. I seem to have written myself into a corner and now I don't really know who should win. So if you want to provide some input, PM me who you think should win and whatever reasons you want to share. I'm shuffling through probably most of the reasons people will write in on my end too, so it will be good to see how many people fall on each side. It's not a direct vote, but I do want to give people the ending they want.**

* * *

_Titian Qin- Head Gamemaker_

_Hmm, Caio and Meenah. The people always love a plucky underdog, but let's be real, for the past few decades, Careers have been the underdogs. We've had more Victors from Eleven than from Two in the past ten years! I know who _I _want to win, of course. And the Games are won by skill, not popularity. But still... Meenah, the plucky girl from Five who will do anything to survive? Or Caio, the arrogant fighter from Two who so far has backed up his arrogance? Sometimes the bad guy wins. Either way the people will be happy. We'll just have to see._

* * *

**PS I deliberately didn't check Titian's math because he's not one to check that sort of thing and is prone to exaggeration.  
**


	54. Love of Life

**Finally, the finale I spent like three hours writing because I kept puttering around procrastinating.**

* * *

GRANDE ST. LEGER- Caio Sagres

He was destined to be the only worthy Tribute I fought in my time in the Arena, and what a fight it was. Grande left me with mementos I suspected would follow me all my life. He had my sincere thanks for giving me the chance to use all I'd based my life around. I only wished I could fight him again.

* * *

Blake Armani- District One mentor

Most of us had been rooting for Grande. Elissa, too, but after she was dead, we were hoping for Grande. He overcame so much and never even spoke of how difficult it was. And Elissa, who carved out a compassionate, driven theology that would have fit perfectly into One. Both of them were singular.

* * *

District One

Due to One's connection to the Capitol and family connections of the de Angelos, Elissa's parents were able to obtain a portion of her body for traditional open-air burial. The St. Legers benefited greatly from grief counseling sessions in which they bonded with Dr. Splendor until he was considered a member of the family.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

Bandages I'd scavenged from the last of the Cornucopia supplies swathed my legs. Elissa and Grande had used the last of the antiseptic. I knew if I was here a few more days infection would set in. Clearly I would just have to move things along quickly.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

It was Caio. Either way was fatal for me, but I'd had the feeling that if it was Grande, it would have gone quicker. Elissa would have been the best for me out of the three. I wouldn't even have seen her coming. Just an arrow in the back of my head. Grande would have made it as easy as possible as well. I didn't think Caio really had in mind to do it any other way, but it was just that for him, I wasn't a factor. Grande and Elissa both thought of me as a person who had to go but still deserved the respect given to another human. Caio thought only of himself. He would kill me the easiest way for him, not for me.

I crouched on the rock that had once pinned Atticus. It hurt to sit on my backside since it was so bony now. I wound up the strips of cloth I'd been tearing. They lay in a coil across my feet. They trailed after me on the laborious climb back up to the platform at the end of the larger tunnel. I crawled out what seemed like a luxurious tunnel to me. My back still hit the ceiling, but I was able to crawl instead of creeping on my stomach. I found a trickle of water and started making mud. I held a handful as I crawled back to my platform. I started to smear it.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

Two days I had searched for Meenah. My leg was stiff underneath me. It hadn't swollen or discolored yet, but it was making itself known. My shoulder still felt loose and watery. As disappointing as it was that Meenah wasn't a physical opponent, in my most secret thoughts I admitted it was fortunate for me. I resented the last wasted days in the Arena. I would find Meenah, there would be a cursory scuffle, and it would be over. Not much for the people at home to watch. I could give them something for their bloodlust, but I wasn't in the business of peddling flesh. Meenah was a last loose end to tie, not something to be tortured for entertainment.

Of all the places, I saw her in broad daylight, to use an out-of-place expression. She was on bent legs by the wall of the cave, holding a bottle to a trickle of water. She saw me and sprang back. She twisted in the air and came down at the mouth of a tunnel.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

If I stayed hidden and waited for Caio, either I would starve to death or the Gamemakers would force me out. So I got out and crouched by the cave wall. I held out my bottle so I wouldn't look obvious.

_Come on come on find me..._

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

I leaped after Meenah and hit the ground on my bad knee. I winced as I grabbed at her disappearing feet. She slipped out just beyond my grasp and crawled down the tunnel. I started in after her. It was roomy enough to move, but the roof biting into my back slowed me down, while Meenah's smaller form slipped through easily. From my position behind her, I could see she wasn't just small. She was skeletal. It gave me the uncomfortable feeling of chasing a ghost.

I snaked out a hand and grabbed Meenah's foot. I yanked back and she slid on her stomach. She cocked her other foot and kicked me in the face. I didn't let go, but her neck kick hit my elbow. My arm was knocked against the wall and the shards, some of them sharp, that stuck out of it. I hissed and she wriggled free.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

I hadn't thought about flashbacks. I heard Atticus scrabbling behind me. I couldn't block out the flashing images of his pinioned body lurching after me in the tunnel, illuminated only by my flashlight. Only in my head, he didn't have a face. It was bone eyes spilling over with insects that crawled after me.

Atticus' dead hands gripped my ankle. His dead hands were warm and wrapped in flesh. I kicked him once, then twice. _It's Caio_, I told myself. Dead men don't move. Only the living things inside them move.

_Caio_ was right behind me. It was Caio that was chasing me, trying to overtake me so he could kill me. I was mere feet ahead of him. The end of the tunnel loomed in front of me. The platform and its end.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

Over Meenah's shoulder I could see the end of the tunnel. I couldn't see what lay beyond it. If she got there, she could spring up and vanish down a corridor while I was still hauling myself free.

With a last burst of speed, Meenah reached the end of the tunnel and clambered to her knees. She shot off to the side as I reached the end. I looked out and saw we were on a platform at the edge of a chasm that went who knows how deep. Meenah was perched on the edge looking for a way out. As my head crested the opening, she locked eyes with me.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

My life rested on so many things. Timing on something I'd never been able to practice. The way a clump of mud gave under pressure. Knots dimly remembered from a neglected training station. And above all else, the clothes of a dead boy. All of it came to an edge when Caio's head passed the end of the tunnel. That was when I reached down and pulled.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

Meenah reached down and picked something up. A split appeared in the ground traveling toward me. I wondered if she'd somehow triggered a cave-in, but that wasn't it. Instead it was a jarring, crushing pressure around my throat and a force that yanked me against the side of the tunnel. My shoulder, catapulted into the wall, gave way. My arm unwound into tearing pain and lost connection with its muscles.

My head was cocked painfully at an angle that let me see the rope Meenah held, the rope that had been hidden under a trail of mud. I could see the clumps of mud that held the rope in place around the mouth of the cave, and at last I could see that the mud that made the entrance of the tunnel ever so slightly smaller had been placed there by human hands.

* * *

Meenah Turbine-District Five

Like a spider. Like the spiders I'd been eating- like the one that spun a web over Atticus' slack jaws. Like a spider I'd spun my line and I'd caught Caio in its grasp. I leaned back on it with all my weight. My spindly arms trembled with the effort of holding on. Caio thrashed in the mouth of the tunnel. He made horrible noises around the rope strangling him. He was trying to reach up or over or any way that would free him, but the pressure holding him sideways and the awkward way he was twisted made it nearly impossible. Foam appeared on his lips.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

I was an animal. A clawing, spitting animal fighting tooth and nail against the slender snare that bit into my neck. Drool and slime coated my mouth. I panted as I rolled onto my side. My dislocated arm, bent underneath me, screamed at the pressure. My other hand, which had been laced under the rope trying to relieve the pressure, slipped out to akwardly reach under myself as far as the cave would let it. I reached for my spear underneath me. A single prick at that taut rope and it would snap. My head pounded at the lack of air and blood, but I could push past it that long. The rope would snap and Meenah's life with it.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

Caio was reaching for his spear. In a moment he would snap my rope and be on me. The leftover end of rope lay in a coil at my feet. I took the far end of the rope in both hands and jumped.

* * *

Caio Sagres- District Two male

For an instant the pressure was gone. For an instant there was breaking pressure unlike anything before. For an instant I saw my entire life. Then eternity.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- District Five female

I hung in the air from the braided rope in my hands. But that wasn't true. I hung in the air from Caio's body. I hung below Caio's body and suspended above Atticus'. Two dead things separated by a barely alive thing between them.

I had something to tell Tapey when all of this was over. I'd done it, I realized in the death and the hunger and the decay. I'd done something big. It would never leave my mind. I'd done something big. I was the girl that killed two Careers.

* * *

**2nd place: Caio Sagres- Hanged by Meenah**

**Now the secrets can come out. Caio WAS in fact my first pick for Victor. He might have been the one that broke the first-pick curse. I started shifting pretty late in the story, after it became clear that a lot of people thought he was the obvious pick. I heard a lot of comments that he was OP or the center of the story. However, when you look at it, he had like three kills and the same number of POVs. I actually think he wasn't so much the center as he was just a super charismatic individual who stood out by his blinding personality. On my side, I'm actually kicking myself for not giving him more strong opponents to fight. Caio did the platform jump at the Bloodbath, and then he killed small potato opponents until he got his butt kicked by a mutt and finally killed Grande. He talks a big talk but isn't as OP as he thinks, frankly, and I added the mutt specifically to nerf him.  
**

**I loved Caio right when I got him. I do really want a Career Victor and thought for sure this was the one. I loved the larger-than-life hedonism and thought it was a great contrast to the usual thinkers who win SYOTs. I liked that he was unabashedly selfish and could show that sometimes it's not a good guy that wins. It took a lot of deliberation to change my mind, and more of that will come in Meenah's blurb. I think what did it in the end was that a lot of his supporters wanted him to win because they wanted more Careers. I also wanted that, but when I looked really close, they didn't necessarily want _Caio_. They wanted a Career. I wanted a Career Victor really bad, but I wanted it to be the one the readers wanted, so I let this one go. This is one of those times I got two Victors (just like Rhoda and Shane). I much regret they ended up in the same SYOT. Caio was such a character that he burst his bounds and made the story about him even though he didn't really do that much. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and picked the one that looked infitesimally PrinceofCorinth and this is one of those times it really sucked to write a chapter.  
**

**Victor: Meenah Turbine, District Five**

**Meenah was delightful right when I got her. I thought she was so fun and clever without being "clever", you know? I didn't think she'd last long and was sorry such a delightful character would have to die. My first inkling of something more came in the tunnel. That was a herculean effort of willpower and survival. I started daydreaming about how I would make her win if I could because she just plain deserved it. She earned her happy ending by crawling through a tunnel so tight she had to exhale before scooting. I can't even imagine a situation I would be willing to do that. Then she ate the spiders. Those were cave spiders, by the way. She ate actual cave spiders barehanded. It got to where I couldn't deny her. Like Pray, she hijacked the story and cried out her Victorhood so hard I couldn't ignore it. I wanted Caio, but Meenah made this hers. She is a survivor. Every Tribute thinks they will, but she pushed "doing whatever it takes to survive" to its outer limits. She listened to Atticus beg for days and crawled back to take his glasses and eat the spider crawling on his face. Meenah simply would not die, and so here she stands. I was stymied when someone pointed out her submitter already had a Victor and that's why I did the last-minute poll, but surprisingly, very few people commented on that. People didn't seem to care and those who wrote in were nearly exactly split on who they supported. In the end I went with Meenah because I do want a Career Victor, but I want to do it right. Not because they're a Career, but because I and the readers agree that it's the right Career. Caio would have been a good Victor, but Meenah screamed it. She would not be denied. So good job SparkaLeah on being the first to have two Victors in my universe. It was bound to happen eventually with like 20 SYOTs and lots of repeat submitters so I was never specifically against it, but it takes a lot to have readers support you when you already have one. Good show.  
**

**Fun fact the chapter title is this super metal Jack London story I read where this guy crawled like hundreds of miles because he was so determined to survive getting lost in the wilderness. it talked about how he was a shambling thing and it was just so metal.**

**A few more wrap-up chapters and I'll roll into the next SYOT, which is a normal SYOT.**

**Also here are some visual aids for two reasons I thought Meenah earned this:**

**i banana pinimg banana charlie oscar mike leany boi originals leany boi 32 leany boi d8 leany boi 3c leany boi 32d83c162d9dda1950e0ce85e560935b banana juliet papa golf**

**pixtures banana s3 banana amazonaws banana charlie oscar mike leany boi caving leany boi squeeze banana juliet papa golf**

**Bananas are periods, leany bois are slashes, and I used the military phonetic system for letter groups that trigger automods.**


	55. Coronation

Pray Jager- District Two mentor

_Oh, stuff it._  
Son of a gun why did we have to come so close? He blew it! That idiot blew it! I told him his recklessness was going to be the thing that got him killed. What kind of brainless wonder chases a Districter who obviously wanted to be seen and doesn't check for a trap? One single second to look before he went after her and he would have won. I lost Donnatella, who frankly deserved it more, to a bullshit battle she couldn't have won and Caio to his own bullheadedness.

* * *

District Two

Phoebe cared for Kallista like her own daughter and thought of her as nothing but. She married a man who adopted Kallista with her and they told the girl of her mother as soon as she was old enough to understand.

Julio Sagres told people he had no son.

* * *

Meenah Turbine- Victor

When I realized my eyes were closed, I made no move to open them. I could see the light through them and it scared me. I knew my poor deprived eyes would burn as soon as the light touched them. I wanted light more than anything in the world, but it scared me.

I finally hid under the blanket and peeped them open just a crack. I started crying right away. The sheets were white. My hospital gown was blue. My skin was olivey ivory. Nothing was green. They were amazing, mindblowing other colors. There were colors other than green. I hadn't been insane when I remembered them in the Arena.

Under the blanket, the light was diluted enough that I could bear it. I slowly peeled the blanket back and peeked out. I shot back underneath in less than a second. Before the Arena, light had always been a background, like the white paper behind a line of text in a book. Now it was an exclamation point. It was the screeching siren of an ambulance, but at point-blank range. It was so overpowering it made my ears ring.

It must have taken most of an hour to adjust to the harsh fluorescent room lights. As soon as I could bear it, I stared at them in awe. They were the prettiest shade of blue I'd ever seen. I didn't even think to look at myself until I happened to see the mirror in the corner of my eye. Oh, well. Let's see the damage, I thought as I picked it up.

I must have gone crazy after all. That wasn't me. This was a Capitol caricature of the perfect human. My eyes were the size of golf balls. My whole face had been... lifted. My cheekbones stuck out harsh and cutting. My lips were bigger and redder. My skin, once divided between Italian and Japanese, had settled into the former tone and I felt violated that nameless doctors had taken half my heritage. My hair shone with purple and blue tones like a slick of automobile oil. I was detailed, like the televisions in the Capitol that made everyone move weird like they were walking through jelly.

Those might not even be my original eyes. That explained both the size and the detail. I'd known I had bad eyesight, but maybe this wasn't weird, this was just how normal people saw. I hadn't known I'd been living in analog while normal people were in 8K HD. What a world. If I'd known, I'd have saved up for glasses. What a world to live in. I circled my head around the room, taking in the intricate details that had been right there all my life. It was like I'd become a superhero. Still, the thought of Capitol surgeons replacing my eyes made me sick. I pictured my eyeless body lying still on a surgical bed and felt queasy.

When the door opened, I darted under the sheets, afraid the visitor would bring more light with them. Logic kicked in and I peeked out to confirm it was Sky.

"It's only been two days," she said. "Other than the emaciation, you were in pretty good shape by Victor standards. How do you feel?"

"I'm hungry," I said. "Can I eat soon?"

* * *

"Usually this is for the Tributes who need a little lift in the back regions," Blush said about the thick foam thing he was brandishing. Once again, the Capitolites were remaking me. I was fit to appear on television, I just wasn't fit to appear on television. I was skeletal. I sat on a cushion because my bones clunked against chairs. My knees were the widest part of my legs. I couldn't just see my ribs, I could see the entire outline of my hipbone.

That was where the stylists came in. They covered most of my body in what they delicately called a fat suit, though in my case it just made me look normal. They did some weird contouring stuff with makeup until my face looked normal even though they hadn't added any actual material to it.

Just hours later, I was onstage with Caesar. I heard his voice and he must have been asking me questions. I heard my voice and I must have been answering.

"Meenah! What's wrong?!"

My cheek was pressed against the floor. My head hurt. My fists were in front of my face and they were filled with bloody clumps of hair. Caesar was bent over me and the screaming had just stopped.

My eyes snapped up to the screen. Atticus was still there, clawing at the walls. A second after I looked at it, the recap blinked off. I scooted away from Caesar on my hands and knees and Sky met me as I ran offstage.

Later, when I watched the broadcast, I saw I was wearing an upscale version of the cobbled-together suit and dyed tin earrings I wore when I was Reaped. The camera cut to the screen when the recap started and stayed there until it was over. I saw myself being crowned. The closeup was from the back and unless you looked really close at the long shot of my face, you couldn't see the weird stiffness of the computer-generated image. I got the crown that night from a delivery Avox. It looked like a woven metal rope.

* * *

**About two more wrap-up chapters and we'll be done!**


	56. Initiation

Sky's head popped through my door the next day.

"Theoretically, would you be ready to go out and do something today?" she asked. "You might maybe have about fifty-five visitors." She turned around and tried to hush the throng of people outside my door to varying degrees of success.

Weirdly enough, I _was_ ready to go out and do something. Most of my life wasn't like the coronation. I was still dazed and having trouble believing that I'd really won the Games and would never be in the Arena again, but not everything was scary. Things that didn't remind me of the Arena, like nice, well-lit areas, were okay.

"I guess so," I said. The bustling crowd was still uncommented on. "Why do you ask?"

"We Victors have a tradition. We always do something to welcome our new member. I would have warned you so you could prepare, but _some_ of us- _Azure_\- got impatient." She shot a glare behind her.

"I am not a patient person," a voice came from outside the room.

"Does anything come to mind?" Sky asked.

"I want to eat so much food," I said.

Capitol buffets were, I was told, the stuff of legends. I didn't really grasp what that meant until we were streaming into a building the size of a football field. Inside it were so many different kinds of food that there were separate rooms for different categories.

"We're gonna need six of your biggest tables," Blake said to the starstruck head of house.

I went to the first table and scooped out some of the first tray. I didn't realize until after I scooped it that I hadn't even looked at what it was. I just saw food and grabbed. Half my plate was already full, since I'd scooped as much as I could. I scooped the next choice as well, filling the rest of the plate, and scurried back to the table, where I ate in a hunched, ferocious motion. When I was done, I remembered eating something that tasted good, but not actually what it tasted like.

The second time, I tried to slow down. It was hard. Seeing food triggered a primal reflex to grab and run. I kept one hand clenched onto my shirt to quell the urge to grab. I set my plate down on the table and used my other hand to scoop out smaller amounts of what actually looked good. Everything looked good, but I managed to select herb-flecked mashed potatoes, some fancy-smelling fried chicken, and some meat stewed in spices totally unfamiliar but with an amazing aroma.

Sitting at the table, I could not accept the sheer amount of food before me. I speared a chunk of meat on a fork and as I brought it to my mouth, I just froze. The food sat trembling on the fork as I looked at it spellbound. It was food. Right in front of me. I could eat as much as I wanted. I put it in my mouth and tears welled up. It was just so good. I couldn't even make a poetic description. My brain was misfiring and just sending out caveman signals of enjoyment.

_That's one table._

_One table._ The tears welled up again and I pretended to sneeze so I could wipe my eyes. I looked at the table I hadn't ventured past. It was full of basic dishes. It was in front of the food section and seemed to be a sort of "classics" table. Beyond it there were dozens more. There were dozens more after it. This was the first table. In the first room.

On my third trip I didn't have the screaming urgency anymore. I took a few minutes to walk from one side of the buffet to the other, through every room. One room had people behind the counter wrapping sushi however you wanted it. I hadn't even known what sushi was before this. One room had enough seafood to fill a lake. There was a room for every kind of pasta I could imagine. A room where cooks tossed food in the air and into giant sizzling bowls while you watched. Three tables of different kinds of bread. I saw four rooms with nothing but dessert. And while I walked, I was told by a smiling waiter that anything I didn't see, the cook would be more than happy to make.

I ate four plates. At the start of the night, I was nervous and hiding by Sky. With each plate, I felt myself believing a little more that it was real. I didn't try even a twentieth of all the things the rooms had. I could have kept going, but I didn't need to. This was my life now. It wasn't just one day. The rest of my life. I didn't need to try everything, because _I could come back._

* * *

**I was going to get all Brian Jacques with food descriptions, but then I looked back at boot camp and how when I ate, I was so hungry I actually did remember things as tasting good but not remember how they tasted because I ate so fast.**


	57. Epilogue

Meenah Turbine, Victor

Dr. Demeter's office was open. That was why I agreed to go there in the first place. I'd brought up the idea of seeing someone to my mother and she was all for it. She started collecting names right away, and I started making calls. Then we did a few recon trips to get an idea which one was the right fit for me. I was leaning toward a woman, which I felt bad about- Elissa had been just as much a threat as Caio. The only hard no, however, was an office that felt closed in. It had to have windows. Preferably a second door. Dr. Demeter's office had floor-to-ceiling windows looking into a private courtyard with benches and flower bushes. While we were introducing each other, she saw me looking and said we could meet out there if I preferred. She sealed it right there.

"I think the tour went pretty well," I said. Dr. Demeter and I had seen each other a few times already, and the tour was a big step. The Career Districts weren't too happy to see me, but the others all went wild. I had something of a reputation as a Career-killer, even though two of the three were accidental or indirect. And the one that was on purpose I didn't like to think about. "I didn't really feel that scared. The speeches were fun. I'm good at talking."

"Any concerns since we last saw each other?" Dr. Demeter asked.

"I still have a lot of nightmares. They haven't really gotten any better," I said. They were always about Atticus. I hadn't had any about Caio. It was always that I'd killed Atticus but something went into his dead body and it started clawing after me. I left the light on when I slept.

"What do you think about after you have the nightmares?" Dr. Demeter asked.

"I think about how it happened. It plays over and over in my head. Sometimes it seems like for hours," I said.

"That's PTSD in a nutshell," Dr. Demeter said, laying her notepad on the bench next to her legs. "It's a survival response. When you experience something on this level of trauma, your brain reacts to it, and it just sort of gets stuck. The threat was so great that your mind doesn't know it's safe to let go, so it keeps reacting."

"Will it be like this forever?" I asked.

"I will be like this a long time," Dr. Demeter said gently. "But it is not hopeless. You can improve and heal, and we're going to get you there."

* * *

"I tried the thing. What you said," I said. "I had a nightmare and when I woke up, I tried to re-center the moment. I thought about the bed under me and how it felt. I squeezed the blanket real tight and felt that it was there. I was sure I was in the Arena, but the Arena doesn't have blankets. I pictured a calendar in my head and I looked at the date and it was today, not four months ago. I was still really scared, but I think it didn't take as long to feel better. It didn't feel as long."

"I'm glad to hear that," Dr. Demeter said. "Have you been keeping up your diary?" I kept a record of when the nightmares and flashbacks happened. We studied it together and mapped out what things I should avoid. Most things were obvious, like the dark and small spaces. Other things were almost kind of funny when they weren't happening, like people with accents. I liked my diary. It was my first little landmark of fighting back.

* * *

"I had a really bad flashback." I twisted my hands in my lap. I'd brought Tapey along to the session. Sometimes I did and sometimes I didn't. It hadn't escaped Dr. Demeter's notice.

"What happened?" she asked. It had never been hard for me to talk to Dr. Demeter, even about difficult things. It was actually easier to talk to her than almost anyone else. I'd always been in tune with people, and that was her entire job. I didn't have to change to reflect what she was looking for. She already reflected me.

"I was visiting Mom and Dad for dinner. Mom was out buying something she forgot to get, so it was just me and Dad. We were in the living room together trying out the new television I'd bought them. We were both sitting on the couch. It was all fine. Then he stood up." I started talking faster. "He was standing above me and time snapped back and it was Elissa standing over the rock I was behind. He reached for the remote on the coffee table. When he did, his hand moved toward me. I thought it was Elissa. I snatched it up and I bit him. I bit my dad," I said. I rubbed my balled fist against my cheek.

"What did he say?" Dr. Demeter asked.

"He said it wasn't my fault," I said. Which is just what a father would say. It didn't change what I did.

"And he was right," Dr. Demeter said.

"I shouldn't be doing this anymore," I said. "I'm supposed to be past this. I was getting better. I hadn't done anything like this in weeks," I said. It wasn't even that I felt guilty, or even scared. I was _frustrated_. It felt like I'd run for weeks and slid back to the start.

"And it will likely be even longer before the next time," Dr. Demeter said. "Or maybe a trigger will come unexpectedly. But sometime the trigger will come and you won't react. This isn't a battle. It's a war. A war is slow to fight and slow to win, but you've won them before. It's okay to react. You're not messing up. You're rewiring a brain that only did what it did to keep you alive and doesn't understand that you're safe now. The important thing is to work toward you feeling safe."

* * *

"Not much has changed since last week."

"That's good news, all things considered," Dr. Demeter said. "I saw your show yesterday. You seemed very enthusiastic."

A lot of the Victors threw together something they could call a talent. I actually loved mine. I was a sought-after guest at all sorts of Capitol events, from fundraisers to roasts. Nothing made me feel more at home than getting in front of a crowd and putting them under my spell. I'd raised tons of money for District Five and other charities, and I'd also done wonders for my mental state.

"It makes me feel normal again," I said. I loved it how Dr. Demeter meant it when she smiled back at me.

"I'm sleeping better, too," I said. "Still some nightmares, but it's okay. Something to work toward, right?" When I first visited Dr. Demeter, I'd told her I didn't really want to use medication. I would if she really thought it was necessary, but I wanted to try other things first. We'd gone with other strategies in the end, but I did decide to try some melatonin supplements. It didn't stop the nightmares, but it made it easier to sleep and I felt better in the mornings. I also felt like the nightmares were a little better, even though melatonin didn't work that way. Dr. Demeter said it was a placebo effect but that it still worked even if it was a placebo.

"You've come very far," Dr. Demeter said. "You're a very strong young woman."

I shrugged. "I just kind of keep going," I said. There was a lot that I couldn't control in life, but that didn't keep me down. It was what got me through the Arena and it was what got me through what came after. Always, I endured.

* * *

**And here we are again. To the end and then back to another start. Each SYOT I write is different in its own way. This victory I think was perhaps the most genuine. It feels like a survival story about a girl, not a story about a character who was flashier than the others. It kind of feels more high-class as far as an SYOT can be. **

**I'll be rolling right into my next SYOT, which is a conventional Games. I'm going to wait to start writing until I get every form this time. Not as some passive-aggressive thing, just so I can have a solid start date and write at a regular pace without interruptions. I'll take the time before that to update the one-off stories like 75 Victors, as well as expanding my wiki. I'll put up the next story basically when I feel like it. I don't have a particular time. Don't everyone rush off, though. Most of the slots are already reserved, though I did hold back two slots because new submitters don't know I pretty much always have open reservations and I want to have some new blood to join the old. I also finally got wise and held back two other slots against the sadly quite likely event that I double-book a slot. This way I don't have to abjectly beg people to pls give up a slot because I made a mistake.**


End file.
